Lavender Blue
by rorrim rorrim
Summary: Running away was all she could contemplate during the long hours behind the locked doors. So when the freedom was finally hers, she didn't know what to do with it. Luckily, Hogwarts was always open to those, who seek help. Unluckily, it meant facing the strange memories of someone who didn't exist. AU set in the 70s
1. Lullaby

1.

_I'm born again,_

_How could that be?_

_My past, my future: where does it belong?_

_Where do I?_

_I see her face, can't help my cries._

_Am I cursed to live as someone else?_

_What an unpleasant surprise._

**Sunday, May 2, 1999, 8:47pm**

High above them a great sphere pulsed with the blinding whiteness of pure starlight. Each throb chased the shadows from the ostentatiously decorated hall. They lingered in her heart, scattered to the furthest corners. Keeping busy helped more than pondering the ways to dissolve the black hole of overwhelming uselessness. A dose of daydream where she did something fruitful worked just as well.

'Those glazed eyes of yours tell me someone's being naughty, Miss Gran-ger.'

The list of topics for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s she had to revise disappeared from her mind's eye. George Weasley was rather amused, judging by the raised brows and mischievous smirk. Hermione smiled and shook the head to gather her thoughts.

'If by naughty you mean having to attend this sorry excuse of a party…' The speech dripped with bitterness, so she cut it off, embarrassed to be caught in ranting about the same thing again. George looked away gulping from the drink in his hand, which she suspected was infused with firewhisky.

'We've won, haven't we?' he mused. 'Even if so few of them wankers fought along with us.'

She pursed the lips to halt the verbal spew of resentment towards the Ministry and its role in the war. The show they put on while organising the grand celebration of A Victory Day was a laughable attempt to appease those who risked everything in the fight. The all-around invitation to the legendary Spavin Hall, graciously opened to guests by Hadar Spavin, the descendant of the longest-serving minister, was much like a slap to the face in the wake of continuous unsuccessful pursuit of the remaining Death Eaters. The fanatics ran free murdering magical and muggle folk alike on a frenzied killing spree. What a farce the whole affair was when so many lost lives because of Ministry's incompetence. The righteous indignations simmered under her skill. Soon, once finished with the exams, she would push for reforms.

'At least brother's found ways to amuse himself.'

Distracted, Hermione followed his gaze towards the banquet tables. A group of young witches and wizards gathered around Ron. He was engaged in a posturing drinking game with Dean Thomas. Punch in their cups, the size of small buckets, was most certainly not a non-alcoholic beverage provided by the hosts.

_Who'd choose to stay behind without any alcohol?_ The irony made her roll the eyes in self-mockery. She was certainly not drinking in this ghastly place. Hermione signed. _She needed to get out of there. She should've left right after Kingsley finished his speech._

Harry cheered Ron on. Next to him, with a bucket of her own, Ginny sang at the top of her lungs, 'Weasley is our King!' Neville was energetically gesticulating something to the starry-eyed Hannah Abbott. The Patil twins whispered to each other glancing at Seamus Finnigan, who guffawed when Dean finished his challenge with a loud belch. Luna was impressed and commented on it inducing a bout of roaring laughter. Ernie Macmillan sprayed his drink through the nose to further delight of the group. Alicia Spinnet pointed to Angelina Jonson at the unlikely pair of Lee Jordan and Katie Bell chortling some distance away. Angelina smiled and nodded, sending unsuccessfully covert glances towards her and George.

'He's going to propose tonight.'

_Huh?_

'Huh?'

George heaved a great sigh, dramatically peering heavenward. _What an arse._

'A certain brother of mine decided to make his intentions clear and could not choose the occasion more suitable. That is why he is drinking himself into a bucket.' He suddenly grinned. 'Literally.'

Ron sang at the top of his lungs of all songs 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs'. Hermione cringed both at the crass musical choice and George's blunt disregard of her feelings. _Was this a prank?_ _Her love life was romantic, indeed._

'Harry has got a sobering potion. We even offered to get some felix felicis…'

He had the nerve to go on with the nonsense. _What on earth made him think he could just go and spoil this moment for her and Ron?_ 'I mean if you'd rather we got him home before he embarrasses himself-'

'I'm going to say yes!'

_The response might have been a tad rude but what did he expect? She didn't care to receive Ron's proposal from his brother, for God's sake!_ Uncaring of the interruption, George grinned but the happiness he was trying to project did not quite reach his eyes. Hermione exhaled the irritation pity filling its space. She averted her gaze. George wouldn't have appreciated the sentiment in the least.

'Just looking after my brother, you understand,' he said and unapologetically stalked off to join Ron and Harry who moved on to a singing contest.

_He had the right to meddle if only to protect one of his brothers. _Hermione sighed, rubbing the forehead to stave off the budding migraine. _How she wanted to be anywhere else in the world right now._ In the wake of the news, George so gracefully supplied, she had no choice but to stay.

Drawing a calming breath, Hermione resolutely turned away to find Andromeda and Teddy. It was the foolproof plan before her thoughts drifted to the impending exams. _The pair would improve the ghastly evening._

Turquoise hair easily stood out in a room of fancy hats and hairdos. Andromeda cuddled little Edward, leaning against one of the massive columns circling the centre part of the grand ballroom. The boy hung on every word of her story. Filled with joy at the mere sight of them, Hermione almost missed a furious if hushed fight between two wizards. She furrowed the brows, trying to place the gestures of one of them. He seemed familiar, yet, she was certain she'd never met him. _Only a brawl was missing in this dreadful place._

'Hermione!'

Andromeda nodded her over. She went with a fleeting glance at the men. Both paused to leer in her direction. She pursed her lips to keep from sneering. _Splendid. Ministry w_as_ now employing nasty creeps as well._

Teddy's hair curled and darkened to the exact shade of brown of her own locks. He wiggled in the arms of his grandmother reaching for Hermione. With a laugh, she hugged the boy close to her heart. He smelled sweet of sunny beach and ripe apples. She cooed bouncing the child in her embrace. 'Who is this little pixie I found?' she asked. Teddy squeaked, tangling tiny fingers in her styled curls. Hermione already felt so much better, playing with him.

Andromeda watched them, content. 'Just the other day he managed to sneak away in the apothecary and was returned to me with the very same words.' She stroked Teddy's plump pink cheek. 'I believe it was meant as a flirt. The wizard was younger than Kingsley, for Morgan's sake!' The witch burst with a peal of delighted laughter. Hermione snorted, beaming at her mirth. _It wasn't so bad to come after all._

'I'd like to visit you once I'm done with the exams,' she said. Teddy dissolved in fit of adorable squeaks and giggles at the slightest tickle. 'We could go somewhere together or I could relieve you of this little beast for a while.'

Andromeda caressed her curls. 'You are always welcome with us.'

Hermione had to swallow back the tears. Kind words never failed to make her emotional. Her heart pulsed with fondness. It was so filled it felt swollen.

Fighting in the war brought many of them close together. At first, Hermione was hesitant to follow Harry on visits to Teddy. Her friend insisted. He could not quite relax around Andromeda, who only at the first glance resembled Bellatrix. The witch was as different from her sister in temperament as water and oil. Stiff as he was with Tonks's mother, Harry doted on his godson. He was determined to give Teddy the love for both Nymphadora and Remus.

Soon enough, Hermione found a great companion in the older woman. Andromeda's calm speech and even the occasional haughtiness reminded Hermione of her mother's mannerisms prior to the trip of the Wilkins to Australia. The Grangers returned to Britain with their identities intact before she even considered finishing the seventh year. But the damage was done. The one-sided decision to place the charm on her family caused a rift in their relationship that resulted in an abundance of distrustful and disapproving looks and words. Neither sincere apologies nor teary embraces managed to heal the split that gaped like a laceration on a corpse: perhaps, not bleeding but incurable. It hurt.

Andromeda offered a piece of advice one day when Hermione had a particularly nasty exchange at home on the topic of her prospects. As usual, the argument ended in bitter accusations from her mother and angry silence from her father. They wished for Hermione to attend a university and consider life outside of magical Britain. The Grangers did not want to hear the blatant refusal, yet did not have much patience for her reasoning either. So, she followed Harry in an attempt to escape and had an outwardly random conversation with Andromeda. The witch spoke about Remus and the man's poor ability to follow his heart under the strain of expectations and limitations he caged himself by. The story of Remus and Tonks never much bothered Hermione but Andromeda's words inspired her to reach the compromise with her parents. She decided to graduate from Hogwarts and consider a part-time course at the university which would allow her a job. After the success of that clandestine counselling, Hermione could not help coming back for more, until she visited Andromeda and Teddy at least once a week by herself.

The little Lupin squirmed in her embrace. 'Bah!' he shouted. An unpleasant odour spread and Hermione wrinkled her nose. Andromeda was already taking the boy.

'This mess is ought to be cleaned,' she said. 'Why don't you join your beau? He keeps glancing over.'

As if on cue Ron grinned from the other side of the hall, raking hands through the hair and messing it in the manner of Harry. _He was such a goof sometimes._ She beamed back, waving.

'I might as well.'

Andromeda and Teddy were a few paces ahead on the way to the bathrooms. Hoping that Ron took the sobering potion, Hermione had not made even half a step when there was a massive blast right behind her. Many guests cried out in fright. Something slammed across her back and skull with such force it stole all her breath away. The ache was so severe, she couldn't even scream. Her body rose in the air as if weightless and was propelled hard into Andromeda. They crashed on the stone floor. Several more explosions boomed from seemingly all directions at once, drowning out the screams and ringing in her ears. Heavy dust filled the hall.

Something hot and sticky trickled down her neck and spine. Hermione gasped and choked, wheezing and trying to stay conscious. Her back and the head throbbed with agonising stabbing intensity, nausea twisted in the gut. The taste of bile was revolting on her tongue.

_Concussion, contusion, broken bones._

_Teddy!_

_Andromeda!_

Hermione managed to lift herself a little from the crumpled form of the witch and examined her briefly. Groggy, she let out a huge breath of relief, choking on the dusty air. The older woman was dazed but did not appear to be injured. Teddy was fortunately safe if scared. He wailed clutching at his grandmother. Ahead, colourful flashes of the curses illuminated the thick of the dust. A duel broke out on the other side of the hall.

_Harry!_

_Ron!_

Hermione tried to move over Andromeda and sit up. Her body refused to comply. With sluggish movements, she reached for the wand stashed in the side pocket of the dress robes. Her heart stuttered in mounting panic.

_It was not there!_

Hermione searched for it, groaning in frustration at her slow hands.

_She put it there herself! Where was it?_

Behind, a man shouted a killing curse and its foul aura settled on her skin, making the fine hairs at the back of the neck rise. Hermione couldn't catch a single breath for a moment. Someone was just murdered while she lay there injured and defenceless.

'Andromeda, where is your wand?' she whispered urgently at the dazed woman under her. There was no other reply but Teddy's cries. _What was she going to do?_

Slightly lifting her useless body on the trembling arms, Hermione chanced a backward glance. The small movement had her gasping from the pulsing ache in the neck and skull. She coughed, gagging on the dust. Black flowers bloomed in her vision for a moment and wilted away. _She wasn't going to last long._

One of the leering men from earlier fired curses left and right, uncaring about the moaning and wailing chaos around. Each hit blasted a chunk of the great columns supporting the ceiling. Hermione's mind was frantic even as her body remained unresponsive_._ _He was trying to make everything collapse! It would be a massacre! What was she going to do?_

Wizard's features bubbled and morphed into the grimace of Rodolphus Lestrange. It was determined and completely unhinged. The Death Eater methodically swished the wand. Hermione struggled to move. More pain flared in her spine and head. More black spots hindered her vision. Nausea was so intense Hermione couldn't even gasp. _How foolish it was to trust the Ministry to be able to protect anyone. She should've known._

_What was she going to do?_

Before Hermione could think of any plan of action, Lestrange glanced up and hurled a curse at the ceiling. The time seemed to slow like in the new moving picture Hermione wanted to see with Ron that summer. A great block of stone was falling straight at them slashing the dusty air like knife cut butter. The infinite number of thoughts filled her mind, fighting for attention.

_Would Harry like or hate that movie? It looked wicked but the protagonist was also The Chosen One, and he so hated the crushing responsibility._

_What kind of face would Andromeda make in response to her blabbering about the film? What would her parents think?_

_Would exams be difficult or easy? What if she failed? _

_What kind of world would the Wizarding Britain be if her reforms passed?_

_What would Ron say in his proposal?_

_Would her wedding be as filled with happiness as she dreamed? _

_Would she have a boy or a girl to play with her hair?_

Hermione relaxed the straining elbows, collapsing back over the disoriented Andromeda and hysterical Teddy. She embraced them with all her might, covered them as well as she could, forgetting the pain and nausea. Resolve filled her heart.

_She was going to die._

'I love you.'

_She would shield them until then._

Hot tears slid down her cheeks.

_Fear was all-consuming, despair - unbearable. She wanted to live with every fibre of her being._

'I love you.'

_But Teddy and Andromeda needed to survive even more if it was the last thing she'd ever done. They had to live._

She willed all of her magic to seep through the fingers, the skin, and the very pores and protect them from any harm. The dusty air grew hot and impossibly heavy, choking the wind out of Hermione. Her skin was on fire, muscles and nerves frying underneath, bones trembling in small chocks, yet, she experienced only relief. The smell of the storm was calming and nostalgic. How she loved watching the lighting dance in the night skies.

_Maybe, she'll get to see it for the last time._

But the view was obstructed by the grey stone. There was no more time. She was ready.

'I love you.'

_Hermione!_

Harry flourished the wand, disarming the last of the fighting Death Eaters. Two aurors stunned and bound the crazed witch and escorted her from the Hall, wherever the rest of her little terrorist club was led. They were six people. Six fanatics who managed to reduce the ostentatious Hall, guarded by the Ministry, to rubble. All of them came out of bombarding alive though wounded, with Lestrange brothers unconscious and Mulciber foaming at the mouth at being taken to Azkaban.

_Hermione was right. The Ministry standard ran even lower than during the reign of Voldemort._

_Where was she? _

Aurors vanished the dust, unveiling the extent of the damage. One of the massive supporting columns collapsed, bringing whole chunks of the ceiling down. Walls were scorched, pieces blasted, scattered everywhere. The banquet tables laid overturned, plates broken, glasses shattered. Harry levitated the rubble to the side of the Hall, following the example of nearby aurors. _What did prevent them from using reparo?_ The question fled before he had the time to acknowledge it. Trepidation grew the more Harry looked around. Last he saw, Hermione cuddled Teddy on the other side of the Hall.

_Where was she?_

The majority of the guests escaped with minor cuts and nervous eye-twitches, especially those who stuck by the members of the former Dumbledore's Army. Called-in healers quickly dispersed the crowd, issuing calming draughts in large quantities and sending people home. Parvati and Padma commandeered Luna, Ginny and Hannah in assisting the healers.

Neville, Seamus and Dean joined in clearing the wreckage. Harry helped for a few heartbeats until he found Minerva McGonagall lying prone with the bleeding head wound. His heart stuttered and began to pound a deafening rhythm. Four healers swarmed the headmistress. Harry moved along in increasing frenzy, searching for familiar faces. Terror churned deep in his gut.

_Where was Hermione?_

Some distance away Bill clutched Fleur, nuzzling her neck. The witch was limp, her ethereal eyes open and unseeing. Ghostly pale Molly and Arthur stood like statues in each other's embrace right behind the pair, silently crying. To their right, Draco Malfoy knelt on the floor next to the bodies of his mother and fiancé. He stared right through Harry, blank face dirty and tearstained. Clenching fists until they hurt, Harry managed to look away. _How many more times he'd have to witness such destruction and misery?_

A child was wailing faintly somewhere ahead.

Ron reached the entrance doors closing in a circle from the other side as they agreed. It seemed his friend was stuck trying to calm a hysterical witch rather unsuccessfully with the most helpless expression. Any other time, the scene would've made him smile. Right then, the desire to wildly scream Hermione's name was growing exponentially with every passing second.

_She had to be fine. She was Hermione. _The mantra helped little to calm his mounting dread.

Ahead, two aurors struggled with the levitation and Harry rushed to their aid, despite the fear thriving in his heart. Under the heavy stones, Katie Bell and Lee Jordan rested holding hands. Harry gulped on air, his vision abruptly went black. A vivid flashback assaulted his mind, swapping Bell and Jordan with another pair dead on the cold floors of Hogwarts, their infant son left an orphan.

Anguished shout close by brought him back to the present. Ron was bawling over someone. Harry briefly wished for unconsciousness, swallowing with difficulty. His throat and tongue were parched by the acid and terror.

_Please, not Hermione._

His gut knotted, the sense of foreboding consumed every thought. Harry caught himself exhaling in relief once he spotted the short red hair of the person Ron held. The callousness behind the sigh horrified him. He hastened to Ron, glancing around, but froze mid-step, stumbled badly and almost crashed to the floor.

_Please, no._

As the part of the collapsed ceiling was being gently lifted, a bloodied body came into the view. Someone underneath was having a bad coughing fit while blubbing pitifully. The smell of ozone was so strong he absentmindedly expected the skies to break in half and spill its insides all over him. The thought died as quickly as it appeared until his brain throbbed with a single name.

_Hermione, Hermione, Hermione._

Aurors levitated her aside: his eyes followed every movement without even a glance towards the wailing noise. His limbs were made of lead, the movements towards his resting best friend - stilted. _She was just a bit tired. Hermione simply needed a breather._

Detached, he gazed over her broken features, filing every detail away: the red delicate hands bent at odd angles, the pale face disfigured on the right side and the matted mane of curly hair, grey from all the dust. With eyes burning, dry throat, unable to swallow or take a breath, Harry tripped on the bit of stone and collapsed like a tower. Pain exploded in his knees but it couldn't compete with the agony in his chest. The fall brought him close to Hermione's still form. Harry scrambled forward, fisting hands in the beautiful dress robes he and Ginny bought for her birthday. The celebration was so rich with well-wishes and predictions of greatness for the brilliant muggle-born from everyone who knew the witch.

_Hermione had to get up. He had to wake her up._

Harry grabbed the pale shoulders, shaking the witch awake. From far away he heard an unbearable keening, that broke his heart.

_No._

_No._

_No._

_No._

_No._

_No._

_No._

Harry came to himself slowly, the terrible wailing sound still distant but getting louder. He was clinging to Hermione with all his might. The bloodied body was pliant but cold. Her head lolled to the side on his shoulder, glassy left eye boring into his own. He was out of breath and coughing, tears clogged the throat. Harry gulped the air greedily until the floor tilted and span. His pulse raced, thrashing in the temples and ears like a wild beast in a cage. His head pounded, ready to combust. The beast keened again. The terrible noise came from him.

Harry coughed and wheezed, clutching the witch closer. _She was just asleep. He needed her to..._'Wake up, wake up, Hermione.'

Her name was swallowed by the sobs. _She couldn't have gone. She couldn't! She always stayed with him!_

'Please, please, I beg you, wake, Hermione.' _She was just sleeping. She'll open her eyes and smile at any moment now._

She didn't.

_She had to open her eyes! It wasn't funny anymore! _

His voice was rising. 'Please, I need you to care for me! You can't leave me like mum! And dad! A-a-and Si-rius!'

_Hermione promised to always be there for him! _Harry's heart throbbed, crumbling to pieces.

'You can't leave me! I beg you!'

_He refused to let go!_

Harry wept inconsolably, wishing for Hermione to wake up, to stay with him, to always look after him. He bawled and whispered prayers to any Deity, noticing nothing. Not Ron, who stood rigidly over them, even his freckles white. Not Ginny who gently tried to coax Harry to let go. Not Teddy blabbing in Andromeda's embrace, both of them without a single scratch. Least of all, Harry noticed the blood on the broken body that he clung to.

_Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_

Harry begged for her love, selfishly pleading with the witch to come back to care for him.

_Please, let her live._

He wished upon the first star. He wished upon the white horses. He wished upon the Gods of Ancient Civilisations, upon Jesus, upon the Queen!

_Please, grant her a chance just one more teeny-tiny time. He'll give his life for hers in an instant. He couldn't stand to witness any more of his loved ones die._

_—_

Hermione remained limp. Harry's lament was inconsolable. Ron and Ginny joined him, as many teens from the former Dumbledore's Army. Molly and Arthur were grieving in each other's arms. Cissi's boy stumbled over, vacantly observing the body with dead eyes.

Andromeda watched on stoically. She would have the time to mourn to her heart's extent. Hermione was a gift, sculptured from instinctual empathy and fairness. She was her friend, a sister she'd never got to have. If only the Black family ever spawned someone the least bit like Hermione, mayhap, her life wouldn't have been so full of loss, her House - tarnished and extinct. For a heartbeat, she wished for another sister to care for, someone, who could've become just the grain that tipped the scales in their favour during the war before it reached Harry.

Dark and cloudless sky peeked through the gashes of the collapsed ceiling. Stars flickered in the great distance, cold and unsympathetic. Centaurus's Agena dazzled in the clear night, while the Girdle of Andromeda pulsed brighter and brighter as if the chained woman was gently swaying to a sound of a lullaby.


	2. The Filly

2.

_Door's locked_

_But magic opens all._

_The exit looms ahead, yet, I am in that room again._

_Few hours free of paper and the memories will fade._

_I'll try again with same results until success on wedding day._

_Why do these faces seem so familiar to me?_

**Friday, September 3, 1976, 5:47am**

Something tickled his lips and the sensitive skin around the mouth making James wake with a start. A black bear-sized dog had its nose nearly pressed to his own, its short coarse whiskers creating the itching sensation. The pale light of the charmed chandelier blinded him. James turned away with a groan, burrowing into the cold pillow. _This time the sun wasn't even up yet! _

His whine was muffled but no less irritated. 'Padfo-ot, you've got to stop doing this shite!'

The laughter of his friends-wankers was joined by the loud barking. _So very like them to mock the unprecedented misery he had to endure waking up early after the summer holidays. James could've been dreaming of Evans! And now he didn't remember!_

The pillow was heavy enough to have the momentum when in flight towards the dogface of his best mate. James scrambled from the bed, snatching the wand from the side table.

'Now, all of you twats are going to pay!' A wave and all pillows in the room rose chasing to beat the sweet-dream-interrupting arseholes, evading the shields and barricades.

Padfoot didn't even bother to change. Instead, he rolled around biting and ripping the fluffy attackers. Soon, feathers were everywhere in the room.

'Prongs! Ah! Protego!' Peter shouted, spitting the plume, and gave up on the defence, choosing to run around the room, as three pillows followed, smacking his bottom.

Remus got hit twice before figuring out the counter. He jinxed James's freshly pressed robes to amble around.

James yawned, ending the spell with practised ease. 'That is old news, Mo-ony. Haven't you got something new up your sleeve?'

Remus snorted. 'Made you look,' he said, chortling when James's feet started to step dance.

The jumps disturbed the feathers, collecting on the floor. The reverse for tarantellegra didn't work, as well as any other counter. He had to give it to Moony: the Irish dance that his legs performed was of high quality. James thanked his routine Quidditch practise for being able to keep up. The socks with snitches he wore to sleep muffled the sound and provided little protection for his heels from the stone. _It was certainly better to dance in shoes._

James panted, wiping sweat from the brow. 'Wha-at,' he asked, spitting a feather out. 'a-ah, fu-ucking hell, is that bu-uggering spell?'

Moony kept laughing until he collapsed on the floor covered in the white plumage. Padfoot barked jumping in circles around him, still in the dog form. Pete was busy boxing the pillows. _His friends were just great._

Someone banged on their door, shaking the handle violently.

Remus cut off mid-guffaw, Padfoot quickly transformed. In the brief silence, James's and Peter's panting was loud accompanied by the smacks of pillows on Pete's head.

An angry shout of the seventh-year prefect Mycraft Kirke came from the hall when the lock didn't budge. 'What's going on over there?! If you don't shut it I'll make sure Sutcliffe and McGonagall come right up! It's too bloody early for this shite!' Another frustrated bang was followed by the receding stomping.

_Probably, Kirke forgot again he could use alohamora on doors._

Sirius made scary eyes at Remus and they burst with an even louder laughing fit. Jumping from one heel to another, James let out a cackle but had to break it off, struggling to catch a breath. His heart pumped fast and steady, while feet worked like clockwork kicking the feathers in the air. _It was a rather easy way to keep fit, if only he knew how to stop. Just what was that jinx?_

'Mo-ony,' he said, panting, 'I'm so-o gonna get you fo-or this!'

Padfoot went to Peter, cancelling the spell on the pillows, then showing him a few dodging moves. _This wanker of the best mate chose to help Wormtail first! And what of James? The betrayal!_

'Well, if you challenge me to a dance-off I wouldn't stand a chance,' Remus said and went down again, cackling and clutching sides.

_Har! Har! He wasn't nearly as funny as he thought himself to be._

'Padfo-ot! Fass! Attack Mo-ony!' Pointing was rather difficult to coordinate while jumping.

'I'm not a dog, you arse!' Sirius hollered but came to his aid. Remus was of no use from the feather-covered floor where he lay wheezing. Peter poked him in the side with a wand, apparently creating enough of a tickling sensation. _They broke Moony._

'What the fuck is that spell?' Padfoot asked, muttering expletives when non of his counters worked. It didn't help that he laughed like a maniac every time James performed a particularly sophisticated step. Peter took out a box of Bertie Bott's and settled on Sirius's bed applauding and cheering occasionally. _At least, one of his friends appreciated the technique behind his dance._ Moony was still in hysterics.

There was a brief knock on the door and it opened. McGonagall burst in with the Gryffindor Head Girl Claire Sutcliffe in tow. The latter gaped, taking in the chaos around. _Why did they even bother to knock?_

'Professor!' Padfoot shouted. 'I'm not decent enough for a scolding!' He made no attempt to cover himself, fully turning towards their visitors instead. Admittedly, Sirius was the only one without a shirt on. Sutcliffe turned crimson and averted her eyes.

McGonagall didn't even blink, rapidly assessing tittering Remus, Peter, who instantly straightened at the scrutiny, and cheekily grinning Sirius. The Scottish witch paused at James's dancing. _Maybe, the professor knew a talent when she saw one._ Her lips twitched.

'Barely a third day, young men. So far it takes the biscuit,' she said loud enough to be heard over the panting of the jumping James.

Sirius's grin widened. 'Why! Thank you, professor!' James chuckled and sneezed on a feather.

Sutcliffe and Remus murmured a 'Bless you.'

McGonagall sighed and shook her head. She pursed the lips, disapproval plain on her features. 'Each of you is to come and speak with me right after your defence class tonight. Is that understood?'

'Yes, professor!' they said in chorus, including Claire.

McGonagall raised a brow at the blushing Head Girl. 'Miss Sutcliffe, you are free to go, thank you,' she said. The witch practically ran down the stairs. _It was rather unfair the girls could easily climb to the bloke's dormitories._

'Sort this mess at once!' McGonagall said, turning away. The order of Head of the Gryffindor House could only ever be answered with a nod. _Well, James didn't really have to bother, given his chin was in the perpetual status of bouncing._ 'Oh, and Mister Potter, given the talent you expressed this lovely morning I could speak to professor Villeneuve, on your behalf, of course. It would be delightful to have you participate in our humble dance club.'

The door wasn't even completely shut before his mates burst with glee. _They'll get what was coming for them. He only had to stop jumping first._

'Mo-ony, come o-on,' James said. His whine broke on a step again. _What if he developed a stutter?_

In the end, the furry arse released him. He refused to disclose the specifics of the spell even after they were ready to leave the dorms. James's feet couldn't stop twitching at the breakfast table. _How was he to ask Evans out in such a state?_

James petulantly threw a muffin at Remus, who caught it with a smirk. 'Thanks,' the twatty friend said, biting into the pastry hungrily and sipping his over-sweetened tea.

'Twatty twat,' James muttered, ignoring the ridiculous comment that 'twatty' was a made-up word. He focused on Evans a few seats to the right. The witch was as radiant as always, auburn hair catching fire every time a sun bunny hit it from above. The charmed ceiling reflected a pale blue sky that was covered in fluffy clouds, letting an occasional beam of light through.

McKinnon sat next to his future wife, talking nonsense without a doubt. Opposite, Dorcas and Mary giggled pointing at… _Him? _He played cool, sending the girls a wink. They snickered.

'Padfoot, something on my face, innit?' he said.

Sirius shrugged and took the toast off of his head, biting on it. Remus snorted into the tea, and James kicked him in the shin.

'We're going, yes?' his best mate said, buttering another toast. Remus opened his mouth, drawing a breath. Sirius lifted a hand, halting any protest. The bread crunched on his every chew. _The elves loved the bugger. _'Moony, missing Arithmancy once wouldn't make any difference. The year's just started. Besides-'

A small commotion at the Ravenclaw table drew everyone's attention. A seventh-year with the frizzy hair that barely held a hat on and thick lenses stood and proclaimed in a hollow voice:

'The hooves that never touched the grass

Will travel far and travel fast.

A shadow follows,

Life that's borrowed,

Until it strikes and leaves a scar,

The archer watches from afar.'

The witch choked on the last words and looked around as if lost. As usual, her table remained silent, some Ravenclaws even dropping their faces into the palms. Headmaster raised the goblet, nodding at the witch, while McGonagall pursed the lips. Padfoot started to applaud, Peter joined. James yawned, lazily clapping. Soon the whole Gryffindor was cheering, albeit sounding a tad forced. The witch bowed and left the Hall with a confused smile. _She was probably surprised to come up with a rhyme for once._

'That wasn't too bad this time,' Sirius said when the students started seeping away. Evans passed them with McKinnon, not so much as glancing at him, despite his attempts to sit straight and smile invitingly. 'Did she say hooves or boots in the beginning?'

He didn't care about the foolish rhymes. Marlene winked. James sent a sour grimace, making the witch laugh. _If only Lily were so easy to cheer…_

Peter chortled. 'Pretty sure 'twas moves,' he said.

Remus disagreed. 'She said hooves.'

Sirius disagreed more. 'Well, it doesn't make sense! It was boots!'

_Who cared?_

'It's Trelawney. Nothing much makes sense with her,' Moony said with a shrug.

Sirius shook the head stubbornly. 'The boots whatever touched the glass… What was next, Moony?'

Remus sighed, shrugged and recited, clasping the hands. 'Will travel fast, something shadow, scar and the archer waiting from afar. And it was the grass. And hooves, I tell you. Hooves that touched the grass. '

_It was all unimportant bullshite!_

Padfoot kept talking. _He'd better been helping get Evans's attention instead!_

'Who's the archer, how do you think?'

Wormtail snorted. 'Maybe, it's you, Sirius. You, certainly, make the girls quiver.' Wormtail snickered at his own joke, knocking over his empty goblet. Padfoot cringed. _Sometimes, it was best to stay silent._

'Whatever, let's just go.'

The walk to the fourth floor was boring, as the students were either in the classrooms, or the library, or the dorm. _They were anywhere but in the corridors leading to the secret passage. Not a single Slytherin to curse!_

The wall disappeared as soon as he said the password and they went through the endless hidden corridor, as wide as every other in the castle. The torches lit one by one, burning the stale damp smell away. Wobbly shadows danced on the stone walls, their steps created an echo. It was a pretty place in a hauntingly mysterious way. _Evans could appreciate it when she agreed to be his girlfriend._

'Prongs,' Peter whispered, watching the walls nervously, 'do you think Madam Rosmerta will grass on us?' Sirius snorted. The sound bounced off of the stone, enhancing into a Snort with a capital letter. It was terrifying.

'Don't know, don't care, Wormtail,' James said._ How many times could they sneak away if only Evans said yes! They could've been having a romantic picnic by the river every other day._

'It'll be fine!' Padfoot said, clapping Peter on the back. The vowel carried until the whole corridor repeated that it was, indeed, fine. Not reassured in the least, Remus lagged, muttering under his breath.

The passage gradually narrowed, rounding into an oval. The daylight, brightening the exit, was blinding after the dimness of the corridor. Outside the air was fresh, the water tinkled and the birds sang. _It was a perfect day to relax and think of beautiful things in life. For example, of Evans._

'Prongs! You wanna go to Rosmerta's now?'

His best mate stood amidst the first trees that surrounded the Hogsmeade village. Remus and Peter were further ahead. _How'd they get there so fast?_ James nodded, following his mates and yawning occasionally. _Early mornings weren't really his forte._

Rosmerta didn't even lift a brow when they took the table by the fireplace after ordering butterbeers. Few patrons were in the pub. A huge man sat in the farthest corner reading the smallest-sized book that was dwarfed in his large hands. A young couple argued about dinner at the next table. _Would he and Evans argue over fish or meat?_

'Right!' Sirius said, taking a hearty swallow from his third drink. 'The date will be Christmas! Confirmed!'

_What would he give Lily for Christmas? Surely, they would be dating by then. Who could refuse James Potter for so long?_

'Prongs!'

His name never sounded more like a bark. James startled, head snapping up. 'Huh?'

'The plan, remember?' Sirius said, exasperated.

James nodded, furrowing brows to appear serious and focused. 'Yeah, yaa, 'm listening.'

A rather large group of wizards gathered at the bar and near the door, flirting with Rosmerta, who bloomed at the attention with a touch of coyness. James yawned, trying to pay attention to his mates, but it was a losing game. He closed his eyes, rubbing them furiously.

Stars exploded in the darkness. James knew if he pressed the eyelids even firmer, the blinking spots would start dancing and morph into the shapes of galaxies and nebulas. His best mate was among the stars, shining the brightest right next to the hauntingly beautiful emerald green giants. They turned into the striking green eyes as the fair visage of Lily Evans was conjured by his imagination. His jaw went slack as the lovely fantasy sweetly smiled. _If only she looked at him like that._

Something got in his mouth and James chewed on reflex. He was gagging in disgust in the next moment, shivering. A Bertie Bott's bean tasting of pork lard was not his favourite.

'What the actual buggering shite?!' he yelled after he spat it out. The tree twats at his table roared in laughter.

The tang of fat remained in his mouth even after a gulp of butterbeer. _How was he going to kiss Evans with a porky breath like that! _James dapped his tongue with a napkin.

'You were gone again, Prongs, and we need you to approve of the plan,' Sirius said, sombre for a second before breaking into a shit-eating grin. 'It'll be our Bohemian Rhapsody, detention for the whole year if we get caught, without a doubt.'

Peter got excited at the prospect and bounced in the seat. Butterbeer in their glasses sloshed and spilt on the table when it shook from his jerky movements. Remus rubbed his hands together, regarding Sirius and Pete with a mixture of annoyance and worry. _Moony really should have a laugh (giraffe, ha!) more often, though not at his expense. _

_Evans could laugh at him all she wanted._

With eyes glazing over, James chased after the vision of Lily, refusing to let it vanish. Like a good mate he was, Sirius tripped his chair. _The absolute dickhead! _James fell flat on his face. Evans's smile disappeared. Instead, he lay sniffing the dirty floor, which was beyond annoying. He jumped up, catching the guffawing sod of a friend in a headlock.

'Try me now, you twat!'

Soon enough the pair of them were rolling on the floor.

Remus signed heavily and looked at his hands. Peter loudly cheered the wrestling match on. Madam Rosmerta did not spare their table even a glance from the bar, knowing full well in a few minutes the teens would settle down.

James grinned triumphantly, pinning Sirius under the stomach claw. Padfoot could not quite throw him off, grunting in pain, when the fireplace next to their table flared. A little witch fell out, flopping on her knees. Four of them stared bewildered: the fireplace at Three Broomsticks was closed unless one was flooing from the ministry or, perhaps, was Dumbledore. The witch did not fit either requirement if only for her young age.

The chit scanned the pub, seemingly without noticing anyone, which killed the whole purpose of it. _Maybe, her face got stuck in an empty expression on the way out._ She didn't seem to be in a hurry either. The girl looked pale, thin, and sickly. Her hair barely reached her sharp chin, corkscrew curls completely grey in the front and flying everywhere.

The fireplace blazed green again. The witch blanched to nearly chalky white, rose clumsily and proceeded to make slow way to the exit. Just as she hid among the patrons, Druella Black stepped through the floo, dishevelled and furious. James caught Padfoot's glance. The Marauders jumped to their feet as one. Sirius made a beeline for his relative with a dramatic shout.

'Aunty Drue! How many lonely seasons has it been now!'

Peter, Remus, and James dashed from the pub. They couldn't find the mysterious witch anywhere nearby, even with the streets only partially filled with a relaxed early lunch crowd. James was about to suggest splitting up when a shriek from around three blocks ahead seized everyone's attention. The teens wasted no time running towards the noise.

A disgruntled wizard helped a witch to her feet, cussing without a pause. 'Bleeding goats! The old fool has lost his marbles in that bleeding barn, I tell you,' the man said.

'That was a horse, Elfie, not a goat.' The woman was breathless, straightening her robes.

'Same bleeding thing.'

More yelps came from further down the street and James caught a glance of a silver filly weaving through the scarce crowd.

'I have a feeling that's our witch,' he said, taking off at full speed. Remus and Peter followed, the latter gulping huge breaths and red in the face. Remus looked peaky but did not even break a sweat. James panted, cursing the perspiration that collected at his temples and above the upper lip. As they reached the end of the block, the filly disappeared into the forest. He pushed to move quicker.

'I'm going to change, she's too fast! I'll try to bring her to our place. Wait for Sirius.'

Once past the first shrubs, James transformed into a stag and galloped into the density of the trees ahead. The broken tree trunks and scratchy bushes hindered the pursuit. It felt like an eternity before he managed to catch her by the stream. The filly was staring at the other bank. She probably contemplated crossing but didn't want to get wet. If Prongs could he would have rolled his eyes.

_Witches._

As he came to a stop, the filly turned and reared in fear. James transformed, raising arms in a pacifying gesture.

'I'm not going to hurt you,' he said, making a cautious way towards the stream. The filly was visibly readying to bolt. James tensed preparing to play chase. 'I want to help.'

Somehow, the words calmed her. She stood still again, watching his movements. James slowly reached close enough to touch the muzzle. The horse was silver and had a black belly, her mane and tail - impossibly curly. Her eyes were the darkest blue he had ever seen._ They were lovely._

He nodded importantly as his dad did. Threw in a cocky grin. _First impression was everything. _'James Potter is the name. And you are?'

The filly continued to stare at his face for a few longest minutes in his entire life. _Maybe, it was no witch. Sirius would have a field day when he learned James tried to chat up a horse. He was so sure she was magic. How wicked it would've been to meet another animagus?_ James groaned, messing the hair. _This was so not cool._

The filly reared and changed into a slip of a girl who only just reached his shoulders. James grinned in satisfaction. _Of course, he couldn't have been wrong._

'Mirach Black,' she said. Her voice was raspy and quiet, speech - unhurried.

_Wait. A who?_

'Huh?' His brain froze for a second before processing the information. She was nothing like Sirius: short, skinny and absolutely average. _Blacks were supposed to be gorgeous, right?_

A silence stretched. 'My best mate is a Black. Sirius. Black. Sirius Black. Know him?' he said in an attempt to fill it. _And why his hand was in the hair again? _

Mirach kept staring. James shifted from foot to foot. He frowned. _What was there to be nervous about?_

'The one blasted off the tree last Christmas. Sister was very upset,' she said, at last, in the same lazy manner.

_O-ka-ay…_

The witch lost any interest in him, choosing to stare into space with a disturbingly blank expression. James scowled. Her haughtiness was irritating. _Surely, he was more interesting than empty air?_

'And you?' he said in a snappish tone when she didn't elaborate.

Mirach cocked the head to the side, reminding him of Sirius, who was forced to interact with his hateful aunt for her sake.

'Me?'

'You, yes,' he said, meanly imitating her slow speech. It came out as if he was speaking to an idiot. 'What'd you think?'

The girl silently stared off, her features went even slacker. _Perhaps she was. An idiot, that is._

'I had no opinion on the matter then.'

He raised the eyebrows and sneered. _What a Slytherin. _Irritation, which she provoked so easily by standing nearby, began to bubble.

'And now?'

The witch didn't reply. She didn't look at him either. _What was so bloody fascinating in the trees? _He followed her gaze. The leaves danced in the wind just like they always did.

The longer the silence stretched the more impatient he grew. James had no intention to watch the forest with some loony bint. He cleared his throat several times to get attention. The chit ignored him, studying the stream and the trees. His hand ended up in the hair again. _Didn't Evans complain about that in June?_

_He had better things to do, really._

Desire to sort this stupid situation as fast as possible consumed him. 'Listen, you,' he said. 'I'll be the frankest you'd ever meet. Your family is mental with a hideous motto and a twatty agenda!' _Why was his voice rising?_ 'And you seem like a typical kind of pureblood uptight struggle, who believes in supremacy!'

He was panting by the end of the tirade, itching to curse someone. Preferably, the chit _who kept staring_. He was annoyed when she paid him no heed. He could not stand her scrutinising eyes either! Why someone would provoke such a weird reaction James could not explain for the life of him.

'Did you just call me a cunt?' the bint said in her infuriatingly slow and calm manner.

James scowled at the haughty smirk, annoyed by the lack of indignation. 'Why, I believe I did. Now answer the fogging question!'

The cunt continued to gawp and his blood boiled. Next he knew, a clear shield reflected his jelly-legs and James fell in a tangle of robes in the dirt of the stream bank.

'I don't need your help,' the cunt said, 'but thank you.'

_No shit!_

She transformed and buggered off, while he struggled to stand up. The robes were knotted around his legs. _Sod her! He could just say he lost her._

'Fucking Blacks, fucking twats.'

James finally got up. The filly ran deeper into the thick of the trees. His heart fell. _Was she an idiot? _'Mirach! Wait! The forest is dangerous!' he screamed at the top of his lungs, changed and darted after her.

Prongs galloped through the endless trees. The cunt was nowhere to be seen, but he could immediately tell the direction she went in. Her smell was honeysuckle, chamomile and something woody. It was a heavenly combination for him, not that James would ever confess it under any circumstances, including torture.

In the distance, hooves thundered. By the sound, it was a whole harras and soon enough weird screams reached his ears. The cunt appeared and steered him sharply to the right and away from the excited centaurs who kept shouting 'Hadar!' They galloped together. His mind was pleasantly free of thought other than the joy of the wind whistling in the ears.

The forest grew dark and humid, the air turned heavy and pungent. White wispy shrouds wrapped the trees, moving eerily like ghosts' robes. Mirach reared and pushed him to the right when a huge black spider jumped out of nowhere in front of them. Prongs smacked its hairy side with the antlers making it scurry away but already a cluster of acromantulas rushed towards them from all angles. Each bugger clicked the fangs menacingly.

The filly stood covering his back. _She was probably greeted with the same encouraging sight_. James transformed, getting ready to defend them both. The tension rose, the air becoming oppressive, fizzing with energy.

He cast arania exumai at top speed, swishing the wand in all directions. It was not looking good. One acromantula would be expelled, two would come in its place. _Was this how it felt to fight a hydra?_

From the corner of the eye, James glimpsed a jerky movement. A huge ugly spider leapt at them. James aimed and missed, only hitting its leg. _Buggering hell! He was too young and handsome to become a spider snack!_

The flying arsehole smashed into a shield around them with a wet and crunchy thud. James gaped at the broken creature, momentarily lowering the wand. He turned and stared stupidly at Mirach who had both hands raised with palms facing out. More spiders smacked into the clear barrier from all sides, piling one on top of the other. James sped up with the casting not worrying about being hit anymore._ It was rather fun to curse the buggers when they could do nothing._

'Mirach.'

They stood back to back. The witch did not reply. 'Mirach!' James said louder, blasting the never-ending spiders away.

She grunted but kept her focus on the shield. _Might as well take it as: 'Yes, oh bravest James, what is the brightest thought you wish to share?'_

Blood rushed in his veins, the stormy smell of spells making him want to cackle. 'I have an idea! Transform and carry me out of here, while I blast the twats off our tail!'

The witch did not reply but briefly nodded. He kept firing spells every side waiting for the right moment. There was a small window where all the spiders were down.

'Now!'

Mirach transformed. James mounted and continued sending spell after spell at the eight-legged buggers, as she carried them away from the acromantulas' nest. Soon enough they left the forsaken patch of the forest. James guided her through the trees, steering this way and that, laughing madly. She was snorting, which probably meant to express mirth in Horse. Once he managed to bring them to the meeting point, James gently coaxed the filly to stop and dismounted.

Mirach pranced around the meadow Marauders often used to spend the time during the full moon and to practice spell-work. The filly snorted occasionally, bouncing back and forth. James laughed again at her carefree attitude so very different from the stoic manner she greeted him with. _Being a horse suited her more._

Barking brought her playfulness to a halt. She scrambled around and behind him to hide, sticking the muzzle to the back of his neck. James snorted. Her trust in his protection was fluttering and amusing, considering the difference in their size.

Padfoot strutted towards them, only slightly smaller than the horse. _Perhaps, she had a point in seeking shelter_. Remus and Peter followed the bear-sized dog, both windswept with twigs and leaves stuck in their hair. Padfoot changed mid-strut and Mirach's agitation doubled. She made a low squealing sound.

James hurried to calm the skittish witch. 'Mates, this's Mirach,' he said, reaching behind to caress her muzzle.

'Name's Sirius Black,' his best friend of a wanker said, stopping in front of them. He was grinning like a loon. His grey eyes sparkled with manic happiness that was a bit disturbing. The witch didn't appreciate it either. Mirach continued using James as a human shield, the gentle breaths tickling his neck.

'Hello, I am Remus Lupin.' To add to the awkwardness Moony clasped his hands tightly.

Mirach finally lifted her head and took to staring at his mates. James felt like laughing again. The girl studied everything as if she used to live under a rock.

Pete joined them pink-faced and nervously smiling. 'Hi, ahem. I'm Peter Pettigrew.'

The witch kept looking at them.

When Sirius made one too many annoying comments about his ability to render any bird or a horse, for that matter, speechless, Remus snorted several times and Peter sniggered, James called her name.

The filly reared and turned into a small girl. She peeked at them from under the lashes. Sirius stepped closer. James had the urge to yank him back and away from her. The witch, in turn, focused on her cousin. She had to crane her neck to look into his face. Standing almost toe to toe with the tall teen, the girl seemed even slighter. Sirius towered over her.

'These are some robes,' he said, gently brushing the sleeve of the rich material of her over-gown. It was a dark green draped mantle embroidered with the silvery thread of constellations.

'A present to remember and uphold traditions,' Mirach said.

She didn't move, as Sirius studied her costume. He peered into her eyes and went to part the robe. James once again had to restrain the urge to drag Padfoot away. Remus shifted uncertainty and cleared his throat. Peter was wavering between nervous and excited.

One side of the mantle brought over her shoulder, underneath Mirach wore a silvery gown. It was satin, had long lacy sleeves and skirt, as well as high neck. It also was a lot like a wedding dress. _The kind James's grandmother wore ages back at her marriage._

Neither cousin spoke for a long moment. _Was it a contest? Who stayed silent the longest?_ James cleared his throat. Everyone ignored him. Remus contemplated the dress; Pete observed her rather vaguely outlined figure. The witch was an ordinary girl in fancy robes. The silent episode was getting on his nerves when Sirius closed the mantle. _Thank Merlin for small miracles._

'Who?' His voice was gruff and unpleasant. Padfoot usually spoke that way to Slytherins.

Mirach shifted slightly eyes jumping away from him. James scrutinised both of them, not quite following the thread of drama.

'Dolohov.'

Sirius swore colourfully, dragging hands through his hair. James's own itched to do the same.

'Family went barking, I see,' he said slowly reaching for her pale cheek. Mirach violently flinched upon contact but did not draw back.

'What exactly do you see, Padfoot?' Remus asked apprehensively. He took a step forward at Mirach's reaction. _Moony to the rescue._

Sirius turned to him, not moving the hand. _It was impossible to read anything on the girl's stupid blank face. And Padfoot's paw blocked most of the view anyway._

'Today is her wedding day to one old man Dolohov.'

James sneered. _A Death Eater for a pureblood bride. She was probably a bigot as well. _Remus and Peter gaped.

'Aren't you like, thirteen, or something?' Pete said tentatively.

Mirach's gaze on the trees above was pensive. James scoffed, rolling his eyes. _She couldn't have been calculating her own age._

'I am fifteen,' she finally said. James frowned. The witch was too thin and small to be only a year younger. Padfoot's hand appeared gigantic against her bony cheek.

Sirius caressed her flyaway curls. 'I must say, cousin, despite the occasion, you are dazzling! Although, the colour you wear clashes terribly with my Gryffindor sensibilities.'

Mirach smirked in response. Amusement didn't reach her eyes. 'You are the silly Black, then,' she drawled. 'I have not met those yet.'

Sirius sported an identical, albeit much open and joyful expression. 'And you are the haughty one.' _They did look like relatives smirking this way_. 'I've seen plenty of those.'

_Good! How about a move on? _James loudly cleared his throat. Standing there like idiots was getting overwhelmingly boring. Remus glanced his way and shrugged.

Sirius did not pay them any mind and cuddled the girl, lifting her off the ground. Mirach was stiff and seemed uncomfortable. _Probably, that was how it felt hugging McGonagall. James was going to compare one of these days._ What was for sure: their Head of the House did not care for rubbish talks about blood purity and blood traitors_. But what about Mirach?_

_And couldn't Padfoot tell how awkward the hug was?_

With thinning patience, James speculated her stance on Sirius's disownment. She never answered any questions. He could feel the scowl etching lines deep into the skin of his face.

'Are you running away then?' he said, trying to be as little curt as he could. Judging by the look Remus sent him, the question still sounded rude.

Sirius finally let Mirach down and turned to James, successfully covering the little witch with his imposing figure. Padfoot stood relaxed, but small lines around the mouth and flashing grey eyes were the warning signs which James would have picked up on any other time. Right at that moment, however, he was beyond irritated and bored. _And he wanted answers!_

'The pureblood priss doesn't feel like anyone deserves her and decides to flee from mummy for a few hours?' James knew he was being mean, but could not care less. _Surely, the witch will speak up to prove him wrong._

Mirach stayed silent, watching him dispassionately. James wanted to shake her. Sirius was quiet and openly glowered.

'Prongs...' started Moony but James had no more patience. _She obviously didn't need any help!_

'And why are we wasting our time here? Let's bring her back and be done with it!'

The moment the last word left his mouth, Sirius was upon him, clutching the front of his robes. James mirrored the stance and they scowled into each other's faces.

'I don't see what is so special about her, mate!' he nearly shouted. They fell and wrestled in the grass. 'She has _no opinion on the matter of your disownment_ either! She could be a blood fanatic same as your mother!'

His own outburst distracted James long enough for Sirius to see an opening. Padfoot decked him in the chin so hard, he saw stars. Evans's green eyes were not among them this time.

Padfoot growled getting up. 'She saved 'Dromeda's life,' he said. 'You will stop being an arsehole before I knock you out.'

James sat up dazed.

'You'd not be able to do that even if you wanted.'

Sirius cracked his knuckles. 'Let's see now...'

Before he could take another step though, Remus snapped.

'That's enough!' Moony shouted.

Everyone startled.

Mirach was slowly backing away from the clearing. Her eyes were wide and wild. The posture was full of anxious energy of someone ready to bolt. The witch finally showed emotions but James preferred the bland face to this grimace of terrified worry. _He was an arse. _The air around them thickened and settled heavily against James's skin.

'Mirach...' Sirius's voice made her halt, though she still was visibly panicking. Padfoot's tone was gentle. 'Mirach, James was just being a prat. I promise we are here to help you.'

He opened his arms as if asking for a hug. Mirach did not move and remained mute, but the tension surrounding them eased and disappeared. James cleared his throat once again, winching in discomfort. It already felt raw.

'So where do you want to go? You want to hide, right?' he said, watching the carpet of yellowing leaves under his feet. _He wanted to be done with this girl. She turned him into an awful person._

'Hogwarts?' Remus asked.

Mirach stumbled a step back, blanching. Sirius's whole body twitched ready to support her. 'Not Hogwarts, she'll find me right away!' She spoke quicker than the usual drawl, slightly slurring the words.

Sirius drew closer, trying to catch her eyes. 'We'll help you hide in a safe place. The route will take us through the grounds but not really close to the castle.' Sirius extended his hand to her. 'Trust me?'

Mirach slowly reached out and clasped it.

Thus, their journey to the Whomping Willow began. Mirach transformed two clumsy steps into it and Marauders decided to do the same. James carried Remus and changed Peter up until they reached the densest part between the forest and the tree on the cliff. The climb became too steep. They moved slowly, Padfoot making way with his massive body, Prongs on his toes, Mirach following. Remus closed the group. Wormtail sat on his left shoulder in the rat form.

The sun was high and blazing, which James noticed only once they left the forest, almost reaching the grounds. The horse encounter lasted hours in his perception, but judging by the light, it was barely one o'clock. He changed in the cover of the bush and cast tempus. It was 12:23pm and officially lunchtime.

'There is a hidden passage underneath that tree. It'll bring us inside the house known as the Shrieking Shack.' Sirius spoke, caressing Mirach's muzzle. She was the only one who remained in the animagus form. _And Pete._

'You might want to transform,' James said. 'The route is a bit narrow.'

The witch outright ignored him. His left eye twitched.

'She'll change once we reach the entrance, yeah?' Sirius petted the filly and she nodded.

'Alright, then, Remus, go check the witnesses; Pete, you're after the knot.' James fought the call of pettiness. _So what if a witch was ignoring him? She was an absolute cunt anyway_. 'Me, Sirius, and the cu… I mean, Mirach will go under first.' _The death glare from Sirius was totally worth it._

'See you in a bit,' Remus said. He carried Wormtail along with him closer to the tree.

They waited silently for a while, Sirius still stroking Mirach's muzzle much to James's annoyance, until the tree went limp.

At the entrance to the tunnel in the roots, Mirach transformed, flopping on her knees. James rolled his eyes at Sirius's chivalry and went ahead. _He wanted to be done with this shite_. At the trapdoor, he realised only Peter was immediately after him.

'Move it, Sirius, fuck dammit!'

Far behind in the dimness of the passage, his best mate walked in front of the ambling witch, making occasional stops to wait for her. James's left eye twitched again.

_Of course, the cunt thought they all came out here for an underground stroll. What a lovely view of tangled roots and crawling insects it had!_

Instead of snapping, which he felt the strongest desire to do James opened the door with a loud bang. Peter jumped.

'Prongs?' Sirius's voice was apprehensive.

'I'm fine, just hurry the fuck up!' He could not stand still anymore and went in. Peter followed.

An eternity later Sirius finally came up, helping the cunt. She tripped regardless of his support.

_What a klutz._

Remus was the last to join them, staring at his feet.

Mirach took to her favourite pastime and ogled the place. It was admittedly a wreck. Scratches covered the dusty furniture. Deep claw marks littered the walls that hadn't collapsed from the age and Moony's assault. The bedroom, they brought the witch into, was even worse for wear as if a wild animal trashed it and not once. James reckoned sardonically, the Shack did not appear safe to stay at all. The thought did not make him gleeful and he took to cleaning and repairing, immediately joined by his friends.

'I cannot stay here,' the cunt said. Her annoying voice made them all stop mid-spell.

James bristled. 'Why the fuck not?!' Sirius shoved him. He glared at his best mate, cracking knuckles in preparation for another wrestling round.

'This house belongs to someone else,' the witch said slowly, almost lazily. For the first time, James considered that she used this manner intentionally just to irritate him.

'Nonsense,' Sirius said. He tried to reason further, but the stubborn girl shook her head, which looked more like two slow haughty turns left to right. _How he wished to hex her right now._

'A werewolf transforms here,' she drawled, making them freeze. James's jaw went slack. 'I cannot take his or her safe place away.'

They all stood there like statues for an eternity. He exchanged glances with Sirius and Remus, the latter shuffling his feet. James could tell Remus was gathering courage do something stupid, but before he could stop it, the teen cleared his throat and spoke up.

'The werewolf would not mind.' The words were quiet but rang clear among the faint creaks of the house. Remus regarded the witch apprehensively, head bent low, posture slouching and defensive.

If the stares were intense before, now her eyes were positively unnerving. Remus seemed to find the attention pleasant. He blushed and averted his face. Some birds did the same when Sirius accidentally breathed in their direction.

Little could be read from Mirach's bland expression if not for her shining gaze. She did not look repulsed or scared of Moony in the least. _Probably, didn't get the message. _James rubbed his neck trying to relieve some tension in the shoulders. Sirius stood rigidly next to him. His breaths were loud and few in between. Pete was hiding in the corner.

The witch strolled to Remus, took his scarred right hand in two of her delicate ones and studied him for a long moment. Moony stood stiffly, blushing an even brighter shade of pink, unable to turn away from the girl anymore. Acceptance and stubborn pride were written plainly on her face. _It was a beautiful expression._

'My tutor once was trying to sell me rubbish about werewolves,' Mirach said slowly. 'I told her to bugger off and was shoved to the attic.' Remus looked like he was going to combust on the spot from the nerves. The witch continued, not breaking the eye contact. 'You are a very handsome wizard and being a wolf from t'me to time will be completely toler'ble once the wol'sbane becomes av'lable.' Her speech was gaining speed. Some words came out slurred.

James and Sirius exchanged glances. Peter stood in the back bewildered. Remus did not even blink, gazing at Mirach.

'I c'uldn't care less wha' happens wit' your body once ' month! 'n fact, I pr'pose a marriage. Mother'll sur'ly lose it!' Her stumbled proclamation was followed by a mischievous if slightly manic laughter. James's lips lifted in response. Sirius snorted. Remus's face was of the colour of a ripe tomato.

'I ap'l'gise, I w'ld've m'rri'd you ev'n with't th' aim t' defy m'ther; 'n, 'f c'rse, 'd n'ver exp'se your s'cr't to th' likes of m' f'mily for wha'ever reas'n.'

The faster the witch spoke the more the words were jumbled, becoming borderline incomprehensible. James did not mind. Anything was better than the frustrating drawl. Mirach could mumble all she wanted as long as it were compliments at Moony or him. _Sod Padfoot. He's already got every bird in the castle singing him praises._ James smiled, his heart light and tingly.

Sirius went barmy, captured Mirach and spun the girl around the room. She laughed again. Remus stood dazed sporting a goofy smile. Peter came from behind and clapped Moony's back, also grinning.

Impossible ease filled James. The realisation hit that bizarrely despite the vexation all along he was worried about her reactions and opinions. The witch should have expressed herself openly. _It was beautiful. Or she could've just remained a prancing horse, which was good with him, too._

Sirius finally set his cousin down and studied her face, hands resting gently on fragile forearms. He couldn't hold back a shit-eating grin, the sheer wideness of it crinkling the corners of his sparkling eyes, and gathered the girl into another hug. Mirach was limp in his embrace as if she didn't know how to respond.

_What kind of person didn't know how to hug? Maybe, she needed a lesson from a master._

Exasperated but determined, James clasped her soft hands and put them around Sirius's waist effectively cuddling both the witch and his best mate. Remus joined from one side throwing arms around their shoulders. Wormtail was tagged into a group hug by Sirius from another. They stayed unmoving for a long while.

Sirius briefly caught James's eyes over Mirach's head, smile gone and face twisted as if in pain, and embraced the witch tighter. She finally reciprocated, gently grasping James's palms in her dainty ones and forcing him to hug her closer as well. He buried the face in her short hair taking deep breaths without much thought. Mirach smelled of honeysuckle, chamomile, and the Forbidden Forest. She was also crying into Sirius's neck.

James's heart pounded. The guilt filled his bones. _Mom cried when his cousin nearly died from the Dragon Pox. Father didn't know what to do. James neither. _

_Lily cried once in the third year. _

_What could he do? Call McGonagall? _

_Those were probably happy tears. She was cuddling with James Potter. Maybe, she didn't want to cuddle. Did she miss home? Wanted to watch the trees? _

_How were they supposed to make her stop?_

_Call McGonagall?_

James was lost, feeling like a bum for his earlier behaviour but could not think of an apology. Instead, he nuzzled into her left shoulder. It was a very pleasant shoulder to nuzzle if a tad skinny. Remus must have thought the same: he was nestled into her right, breathing deeply.

Wormtail stepped away first. Three of them stood around the witch, as she silently wept until hiccups started. James snorted at the cuteness of the sound, relief filling him when she chuckled, making Sirius and Remus grin. The three of them hugged her tighter and let go.

With tearstained cheeks and puffy lids she gazed first at Sirius, then Remus, and finally, James smiling in such a dazzling way it stole his breath away. Remus also appeared completely smitten and Sirius as if a Christmas at Potters finally came.

_She should've smiled sooner. The expression was too pretty to hide from him._

Afterwards, they cleaned up the room. James reckoned it was half-decent by the time they were done. Mirach collapsed on the semi-dusty bed and promptly fell into a deep slumber. She slept on her back, breathing so lightly her chest barely moved. An image from the tale of the Sun, Moon, and Talia flickered in his mind.

The witch was not an overwhelming beauty, but her cheekbones were high, nose – small, brows – arched. Her hair and skin were soft and fragrant. Few gained pounds, decent sleep, that lovely smile and she would start turning heads.

'Let's go, we still have History and Defence later,' Remus said, trying not to disturb the resting girl. He could barely glance away from her for longer than a minute.

'Did you or did you not skip Arithmancy today?' Sirius said. _Cheeky bastard._

Moony grumbled under his nose. 'You are one to talk,' he said.

In the corner, James found a kilt. 'Let her rest now, Prongs,' Sirius said when he stood watching the witch for a moment too long. 'We'll come back soon with support.'

James fixed the covers and followed the Marauders out. Somehow, studying Mirach's sleeping face made him want to caress her soft cheek and sing a lullaby.

_Could've turned into a decent apology, after all, he had a fantastic voice._


	3. Guilt

3.

_The darkness grows, expanding in my chest._

_The elf cries and I cry with him._

_'The choice is yours,' she says, 'so make it known.'_

_I wish I died that day._

**Friday, September 3, 1976, 6:23am**

The leaves whispered sweet promises in the warm September wind. Her modest Greensleeves garden was full of ripening apples. In a month time, they would be ready for picking. Andromeda closed the eyes, tilting her face towards the early morning light. It was half-past six and the sun has only just risen. The day promised to be lovely with skies high and cloudless, apple trees still green and fully dressed, and the sound of Chew Brook faint and calming.

Everything moved at its own lazy pace in this haven, not reflecting the dark thoughts and memories the date evoked in her.

Today was her youngest sister's fifteenth birthday.

Andromeda has not seen her or been in any contact with any Blacks, besides Sirius and uncle Alphard for several years, and she could not help but worry for the young girl who was all but hidden in their family house since the disaster of November 1972.

Bellatrix was already tied with Lestrange then and now fanatically preached other man's agendas. Narcissa had married the blond peacock she fancied back in school soon after their betrothal. Andromeda was positive their mother was as usually absent on her overseas shopping trips and gossiping sessions labelled as tea parties, while father busied himself with whatever family business he did with Orion. That meant, Mirach was abandoned to herself and the tutoring matrons right until the time to marry came. _Which, if the gut feeling screamed correctly, was once the girl turned fifteen._

Her belly cramped in extreme anxiety, as she guessed the most possible suitor for her little sister. Did she escape the bleak fate only to condemn Mirach? Did she not know it from the start? The notion made something twist painfully in her chest.

Andromeda smiled shakily as she remembered watching their back garden from the window the morning Mirach was born.

Hiccup brought the child to the nursery and she followed the elf like a puppy. Her awe was endless. Andromeda gazed into Mirach's startling dark blue eyes and fondled with a chock of grey curly hair in the front for the very first time. She imagined joyfully how they could play house with a real baby now. The day she sang a lullaby to her dozing sister, her happiness was so profound it reached all the way to the tingling fingertips. In the evening matron taught the sisters that beta Andromedae was called Mirach.

'Miri, did you know?' Andromeda told her the very next morning, as Hiccup fed the baby. 'Your name is a star from my constellation. It means we are going to be together always.'

Mirach, of course, did not reply.

She was a very quiet child, and only ever cried when Bellatrix held her.

Bella would coo, as Mirach wailed in her arms, while Hiccup stood wringing the hands.

'Itsy bitsy beast likes me so!'

'You are wrong,' Andromeda would say. 'She doesn't like you at all!'

'So does!'

'Does not!'

'So does!'

'Does not!'

The argument would continue until Bella has had enough. She would shove the baby to the elf and storm out of the room.

The wind picked up, freeing Andromeda from the thrall to the memories. She went into the kitchen to start breakfast. It was the day for porridge with fruits and toasts with orange and strawberry marmalade. Nymphadora hated strawberries, complaining they were funny.

Mirach never fussed about food. She did not even speak before Andromeda left for Hogwarts.

Andromeda tried to teach her words. 'Mee-rah-k, see-stah, hee-cup.' The child listened carefully and studied the surroundings intently but stayed silent.

It didn't bother anyone somehow. Father had yet to spend any time with his youngest daughter. Mother had embarked on a binge of shopping trips in Greece. Little Narcissa was consumed by her pretend teas, which did not require anyone but herself, the exquisite toy tea set and her dolls. Only Bellatrix ever commented on the lack of speech, choosing to visit Mirach for the sake of making her cry. Nothing much provoked even a remotely strong reaction from the girl those first three years. Still, Andromeda adored her, and after meeting Sirius and Regulus, who were inseparable, wowed to make Mirach participate in their games.

The kettle whistled as soon as she tapped it with her wand. Milk warming and bread toasting, Andromeda started brewing the tea. Turning around, she waved the wand and waited for their table to set itself for the first meal of the day.

Narcissa sat primly holding the cup elegantly with the tips of two fingers.

'My husband recently purchased me the most exquisite dress for the upcoming function we will be hosting in our manor. Ah, there will be so many guests from the best families, of course.' Extreme haughtiness oozed from Narcissa.

Across from her was three-year-old Mirach, listening and watching studiously.

'You, of course, are not invited, with that being a blood-traitor married to a muggle.'

'A muggle!' Mirach happily screamed her first word.

That day Andromeda scolded the blond so bad, the girl ran away in tears and was later avenged by a painful hex from Bellatrix. It was the first time she saw Narcissa's mean games with Mirach which turned into the first Christmas sisters spent in separate groups of two.

Large gentle hands snaked around her belly. Ted kissed her temple murmuring 'good morning,' grabbed the paper from the counter and sat at the head of the table. He enjoyed reading the news first thing even before his tea.

Mirach loved reading from a small age. While aloof as ever she seemed to enjoy the company of sisters because she always put her book away if they played. The games may have been mostly one-sided fantasies, but Andromeda remembered them with fondness. Even the childish taunts of Bellatrix who usually showed up only to spoil their pretend house parties with her colour-changing and tickling charms, and jinxes which never failed to make Mirach fall face-first into the table, shone brightly against the gloomy canvas of the events to come.

Ted yawned and met her eyes. His face smoothed from the frown and he smiled cheekily winking at her. Andromeda snorted putting breakfast in front of him and watched as he ate.

The Black family shared fewer meals as the girls grew older but the first five years of Mirach's childhood they gathered at the dining table from time to time. Everything started to change when Narcissa was to leave for Hogwarts.

Mirach missed one of their last joint dinners on the evening before September, 1.

'I'll check why my itsy bitsy sister is taking so long.' Bellatrix jumped out of her seat. 'Fell asleep, silly thing,' she said upon return.

A loud crash sounded from above and Nymphadora shouted 'amaright!' Ted stood hurriedly and went to get her before the little clumsy monster decided to come down.

Mirach tumbled down the staircase with resounding thuds. She broke her arm that morning of September, 1. After father hastily settled the child on the sofa of the sitting room and mended the bone, they had to leave for Kings Cross without her. Andromeda was so worried she pestered him with endless questions until he snapped that the healer would make sure everything was fine soon enough.

Many years later, Andromeda could not help reflecting on his answer which once calmed her. _Not for the last time Mirach was left alone injured while their family pretended to be important and united. How farther from the truth that image could've ever been?_

'Momma!' Nymphadora said, waving her little hands from where she sat on Ted's shoulders.

She kissed her daughter's button nose. 'Good morning, sweetheart.'

They all sat around the table, Ted sipping tea while skimming the Prophet, Nymphy playing with the porridge and Andromeda staring at her untouched breakfast. The irritating clock given to them by Ted's mother most certainly for no other reason but to torment Andromeda chimed seven. As pleasantly her father-in-law behaved as frustrating turned out to be the mother-in-law who was always trying to make her feel undeserving of Ted.

_She knew this well without anyone's help._

Andromeda often got upset with Bellatrix's victories in duels she instigated, or Narcissa's extremely haughty behaviour, but never before Christmas of her third year had she felt frustrated with Mirach. The girl was not just aloof anymore: she spent most of the time in her thoughts during winter holidays or sleeping during Easter and summertime, with Bella always checking on her. For the first time in fourteen years, Andromeda spent every waking moment in the company of her older sister.

_That should have caused the alarms to go off._

Mother started bringing her and Bellatrix to the teas with the society wives, to find them both suitable husbands. Mirach was never present at their meals, or games, and somehow, without any notice Andromeda had not seen her favourite little sister at all until the morning of the first of September of her fourth year.

They sat at the breakfast table like a real family for once, when Mirach showed up in the dining room. The girl was thin and pale, and after a slow trip to the table full of jerky arm and leg movements, which was managed at all only because of the help of Hiccup, sat constantly fidgeting, and could not stop the trembling of her hands as she clumsily tried to grab the cutlery. Bellatrix did not lift her head from the plate. Mother kept talking about the marriage prospects. Narcissa openly stared at Mirach, appearing worried. Father did not pay any attention as he continued reading the paper and humming occasionally.

'Miri, what is wrong with you?'Andromeda said.

Mirach didn't reply, twitching and shaking. Andromeda pointed out the strange behaviour to father. He lifted his head and studied the girl for a moment, lips thin and a vein throbbing in the centre of his forehead. A healer was summoned immediately and what followed was the loudest ever screaming match between father and Bellatrix, which brought the ugly truth out.

Bella was, as she called it, training Mirach with nothing better than a cruciatus since Easter.

'The little beast attacked me with magic!' she yelled scornfully. 'And why? Because of a mere elf! She is a blood traitor in the making!' Bella was waving her arms frantically, eyes mad. 'Yesterday it was the house-elves, tomorrow – filthy muggles and mudbloods!' She laughed maniacally, while father regarded her stone-faced and mother stood aside pale. Andromeda was hugging Narcissa as they cried silently. 'I did the family a service by pruning this out of her at the earliest stage! Morgan knows you never paid enough attention!'

As soon as her speech was over Bella turned placid and voiceless.

'For this insolence, Bellatrix, you shall be wed to Lestrange at his convenience.' Father' quiet tone promised nothing good. He still aimed the wand at her.

Mother and Narcissa gasped loudly. Bella could not stand the wizard.

Cygnus approached his oldest daughter, cut her palm open, then his own and chanted the curse which would have made her hurt back if she ever tortured Mirach again.

'Your sister is now damaged beyond repair and it will bring us shame. You brought us shame, Bellatrix.' He caressed her wild hair and Andromeda thought how foreign the gentle gesture looked on him. 'Shall you again do any _training_,' he sneered at the word Bella so proudly used, 'without my advice, you will pay a much higher price.'

Druella had the girls made presentable and the family went to show themselves at Kings Cross without Mirach as if nothing happened.

'Dromeda.'

Ted's mellow voice aroused her from the bitterness of the memories, and she met his lovely eyes across the table. 'Grantley is leaving. Most probably from next week, I will have to do some double shifts. All these terror attacks keep targeting muggle-borns and he is worried about his wife and the kids.' He heaved a great sigh. 'I think they want to move away.'

Evan Grantley has become a family friend in five years he worked with Ted at St. Mungo's. He was a brave and sweet man, and hearing of him running in fear made her all the more uneasy and frightened.

'What about Beth? Did she tell anyone where she'd gone?'

Ted shook his head negative. Andromeda had a nasty feeling why his opinionated muggle-born supervisor who had a long successful healing career suddenly vanished and could not be found even by the magical post.

The owls did not reach Mirach either. For most of her fourth year, Andromeda would have thought she was ignoring her if the birds did not return with the untouched letters. Christmas came and went with mother herding all sisters to endless teas, while Mirach had taken to shredding robes and spoiling the neat coiffures her hair was magicked into.

'Mirach!' mother shouted, getting impatient. They had to leave any moment then.

The girl came down slowly, her dress robes torn, hair wild and smirk triumphant, as Hiccup trailed behind wringing hands but gazing adoringly at his mistress. Narcissa snorted quietly next to nervous Andromeda. Bellatrix looked gleeful in the most disturbing way.

Mother reached Mirach in three long angry strides, slapped her hard across the face, whipped out the wand and cast several cutting spells on her long curly hair until it was so short it stuck out at odd angles, turning her into a mischievous boy wearing a torn dress.

'I have had enough! You will stay in the attic without potions and think on your foul behaviour!'

Mirach stared silently with a blank expression. Her cheeks and temples were bleeding where the curse missed the hair. Druella turned to Hiccup, scowling.

'Away with you!' Ted yelled at the owl that crashed into the fruit basket on the counter. The kitchen was in complete disarray. Nymphadora laughed throwing porridge each and every way. Andromeda sighed and picked up the letter the hellish bird dropped on the table before it proceeded to wreak havoc everywhere.

'Molly invited us to dinner,' she said, watching Ted sloppily clean the mess with a wave of his wand.

He grumbled, kissing Nymphadora on the forehead, as he wiped the little girl's cheeks. 'I hate that owl. Worse than the twins,' Ted said, coming over to kiss her goodbye as well.

Once upon a time, Andromeda would have argued. Prewett brothers made the life of every Slytherin hell in Hogwarts. She was on the receiving end of a fair share of pranks from the silliest colour-changing to the actual hurtful curses that cut and broke bones. The animosity between the two houses only grew. By the end of her fourth year, Andromeda took to hiding in the library and avoiding the twins at any cost. Still, they managed to catch her unaware sometimes. On one such day, mother notified her of the completed betrothal with supposedly respectable and powerful and just a perfect wizard. On top of everything she still had no way of contacting Mirach which made her feel all the more depressed. And the wound on her forearm kept bleeding.

A tall fair-haired boy interrupted her pity party. 'That is one nasty cut,' he said. 'Although nothing could diminish your ethereal beauty.'

Out of control, her lips quirked in response to his cheeky smile.

'I am a Black,' she said haughtily.

'I am a Tonks,' he said back with a wink.

Her face grew hot. He drew his wand smiling openly, slowly pointed it at the bleeding forearm and promptly healed it, vanishing the blood. Andromeda smiled at him tentatively.

'But I have to agree: Blacks are truly gorgeous, more so this one girl…' His voice was mellow, grin - mischievous.

'Yes, Bellatrix turns heads everywhere she goes,' Andromeda said with a half-fond smile. Her sister was mad but still, she was family.

'Actually, I was thinking of another Miss Black.'

'Ah, Narcissa will be a real vision soon enough.'

The wizard guffawed. She gaped at him indignantly, irritation growing with every second.

'Indeed, but again I meant a different sister.'

Somehow, this flirty comment prompted her to burst into tears. She thought of Mirach, hidden away in their house. Andromeda cried, desperately trying to stifle her sobs. It proved to be extremely difficult when the lanky boy hugged her, whispering sweet words.

'You have house-elves, do you?' Ted said when Andromeda calmed down and told him about Mirach. She nodded absentmindedly, not comprehending the line of questioning.

'The kitchens are near our common room, and we often spend time with the elves,' Ted said eyeing her nervously. 'And aren't they fascinating creatures? Loyal and so very capable.'

Up became down as an idea flourished in her mind. Andromeda jumped to her feet, kissed the cheek of the wonderful boy and took off, missing his dazed expression and a wide smile.

'Soup is bo-ring,' sang Nymphadora from the living room, where she methodically coloured the moving and actively protesting pictures of yesterday's Prophet, 'cake is not!'

Andromeda was distractedly going through the routine house tasks, her mind once again on the youngest Black.

Indeed, asking Hiccup made the correspondence ridiculously easy. The elf was the most loyal to Mirach and above all was eager to dote on her every whim even if it went against their parents' wishes. The handwriting of her little sister was atrocious and nearly unreadable, but still, Andromeda treasured each and every letter. Mirach wrote long stories of attempts to skip tutoring sessions in domestic arts and hide in the library, of getting caught and punished. When Andromeda asked to elaborate on the punishment, Mirach simply replied that it included being locked in the attic.

Hiccup though always had ready detailed and miserable reports of each scolding and starving session. Every visit he took cauldron cakes and treacle tarts, which Andromeda managed to get from the kitchens. Ted was kind enough to show her the entrance asking if he could see her whenever she came by. After a short while, Andromeda started wrapping whole meals whenever Hiccup talked about the attic.

It was mentioned at least every two weeks.

'Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?'

Andromeda was expecting his question. They have been spending time together in the kitchens for at least an hour almost every day. Ted asked her out at the beginning of her sixth year, once she was finally free of Bella's attention. Nevertheless, she was betrothed to a man way older than her and before that as a Black could not have been allowed to have any involvement with anyone not approved by the family. Muggle-born Ted Tonks despite all his brilliance and kindness would have never been considered even a wizard by the Blacks.

'I am going to be a healer,' Ted said before the Easter holidays. 'I will take care of you.' They sat at the same table as usual, close but not touching. It was three months until his graduation.

'I love you,' he said at the beginning of June. The kiss was everything she dreamed.

'I'm not in lo-ve,' little Nymphadora sang when Andromeda came to the living room. 'Do-n't forget it.' The girl was busy creating a pillow fort. Content and anxious at the same time she joined in and watched her daughter play carelessly.

In July Bellatrix's wedding took place. Mirach did not leave Andromeda's side for a moment. She was beautiful in pale pink dress robes but seemed terrified of Bella.

'Will you get these for me?' the tiny girl slowly asked when the guests were busy congratulating the newlyweds. She discreetly passed her a folded note. Bellatrix chose that moment to glare at her youngest sister with such hatred Andromeda instantly was both defensive and scared.

The note held a list of ingredients for a potion she had never seen before.

The seventh year at Hogwarts had Andromeda torn between Ted, Mirach and the responsibility to the family. It was the most stressful time in her life, with mother constantly on her case with the marriage preparation, Mirach growing more and more defiant and being punished frequently, and Ted being sweet Ted, whom she was smitten with. By April Andromeda had developed sleeping problems and lost weight, but was still undecided.

During that Easter, she spent as much time with Mirach as she could, whenever mother left her alone. Narcissa was visiting with a friend, and Bella only ever came to talk to father anymore.

'I've got what you asked, Miri,' Andromeda said as she hugged the girl goodbye before going back to school. 'It's with Hicky.' They both could not hold back tears.

'I will see you soon.'

She wouldn't. In June Ted came to the graduation and she left the family for him.

'Rebel, rebel,' sang Nymphadora hanging from the side of the wardrobe, because the floor was lava. 'Hot tramp, I love you so!'

Andromeda sat on the sofa, with her feet tucked under and not touching the lava. _She ought to talk to Ted and Sirius about what kind of songs they listened with her daughter._

There was no music at Callowswyle Place. The sisters grew up surrounded by the books on the Dark Arts, deadly artefacts and the strictest of rules on upholding the family traditions. The corporal punishment and cursing were normal practice in taming Bellatrix and later Mirach from a young age. The affection did not go further dry praise and a fleeting glance. As Andromeda grew older the house became darker and more suffocating or, perhaps, as a child with vivid imagination she had never noticed it before. Her heart ached from the mere thought of Mirach being there alone.

Hiccup or any other elf did not reply to summons anymore. The guilt almost ate her alive despite all the happiness she felt with Ted. It nearly cost her and Nymphadora's lives.

'Well, well,' Bellatrix drawled frowning down disdainfully. They stood at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, where Andromeda rushed to catch her sister. 'Filthy scum of a blood-traitor!' The black-haired witch sneered unattractively and stalked away.

Andromeda followed. 'Bella, please, I just wish to know if Mirach is alright.'

That made Bellatrix stop abruptly. When she turned around her eyes were bright and manic. Growing nervous and frightened, still, Andromeda waited, clutching the wand in the sleeve of her robes.

'Oh, you just might see firsthand.'

Her mind went pleasantly blank, a lovely voice giving straightforward directions to follow. They apparated together and she was locked away in a cellar without any food or drink for long hours. It could have been days until an elf appeared and whisked her to a grand ballroom full of guests. She immediately spotted Bellatrix grinning wildly beside her handsome but unpleasant husband. Narcissa was dressed beautifully and horrified next to Malfoy. Cygnus and Druella observed Andromeda as if a stranger in the street. Young terrified Regulus stood with the dazed-looking Mirach.

'Crucio,' Bellatrix cast.

She screamed for what seemed like an eternity. Her voice was getting thinner until it divided as if two Andromedas were being tortured on the floor in front of all of their family. The agony ceased abruptly, and Hiccup brought her home to Ted before disappearing right away.

'Momma!' Nymphadora said from her seat at the kitchen table. She loved watching how Andromeda cooked. 'A letter.'

Indeed, a Hogwarts owl perched on the windowsill.

_Dear Cousin Dromeda,_

_I may or may not have found among my possessions one silver girdle you have lost some time ago. Do tell if you desire it back as James already liked it for himself. Meet at the place where Rose is most fragrant._

_Also, consider contacting our favourite family though it might lead to unnecessary competition._

_Yours,_

_Sirius_

Her heart stuttered painfully as she thought frantically of a reply. When the stew started to boil over she waved her wand absentmindedly and the wooden spoon jumped to steering. Summoning parchment and a quill, Andromeda sat at the table wringing hands. Nymphadora kept asking curiously what she would write. A few minutes later another owl came bearing a brief note from Alphard.

Andromeda stood up and paced along the kitchen counter.

'Momma, you gotta reply,' said Nymphadora as she knocked over the ink bottle. Andromeda cast the spell to rid of the mess and sat down again.

_Dear Sirius,_

_You are about as subtle as a lion among snakes. Our favourite already wrote saying there was a massive search planned this afternoon. Meet at the rose garden as soon as you can and we will plan our escape. Better come glamoured._

_Yours,_

_Dromeda_

She picked up her daughter. 'Nymphy, I have to go somewhere. Will you be a good girl and behave yourself with Aunty Molly?'

'If you don't call me Nymphy,' the little girl said seriously as they flooed to the Burrow. 'I wanna be Sir Robin.'

She settled the child on the sofa, giving her a kiss. 'Sure thing, my sweet. I will just ask your father first.'

'Andromeda? Nymphadora?' Molly burst into the room holding a baby, Will and Charlie following hand in hand.

'I'm now called Sir Robin,' the little witch proclaimed to the boys puffing out her chest. The kids ran off to the garden.

Andromeda apologised in between cooing at baby Percy and, once Molly assured her that it was no trouble at all, hastily left. At home, she wrote a quick letter to Ted, took the burnt lunch off the stove, glamoured herself and apparated to Hogsmeade.

Waiting next to the entrance of the Three Broomsticks and trying to appear inconspicuous ended up being easier than she expected. The hour was nearing 3 o'clock, and the streets were empty if not for the aurors patrolling further down the street. Nevertheless, her stomach was in knots from anxiety. Andromeda could not stop fearing Mirach's reaction to seeing her face after she left the house without a word.

_After she left Mirach behind._

'We really ought to be at the History of Magic now,' came a guilty sounding mumble from somewhere to her right. A cloak of invisibility parted and her tall cousin stepped forward immediately hugging her.

Someone invisible hissed angrily. 'Sirius!'

'How did you know it was me?' Andromeda said, watching his two friends appearing from under the cloak as well.

One of them had windblown hair even as he wore impeccable robes. By Sirius's frequent stories, it must have been James Potter. Hazel eyes scrutinised her suspiciously from behind the lenses of square glasses. The other friend was most probably Remus Lupin considering his height, sandy-blond hair and pallid complexion. He gave her a timid smile patting the rat that sat on his shoulder.

'You are the only witch around here currently wearing such extravagant slippers while wringing her hands in worry,' Sirius said with a smirk, scanning their surroundings. The streets appeared to be deserted.

Andromeda looked at her feet mortified. She transfigured the pink fluffy slippers into a pair of black shoes. 'We have to go: the search has not started yet, but I already saw aurors rounding the place.'

The boys exchanged glances and Sirius spoke in a tone instantly wary.

'What was the song Nymphy liked so much last time I came around, she wouldn't shut up about it?'

Proud, Andromeda smirked and messed his hair.

'Space Peculiarity, or some such by David Bowel.'

Sirius let out a loud guffaw promptly shushed by the bespectacled teen.

'Oddity, 'Dromeda, and it's Bowie!' He grinned shaking his head.

Potter kept glancing around, cloak tightly clutched in his fists. 'Padfoot, we ought to move.'

'Right.'

The plan was to have Andromeda and Sirius stroll casually to the fences surrounding the Shrieking Shack, with two teens following them under the cloak. It proved to be an easy fit as well because not one person was in sight. For that very reason, her stomach cramped painfully.

_It was too easy!_

She gnawed at the insides of her cheeks worriedly, making an enormous effort to squash paranoia and desire to glance around every step of the way.

When they were just two blocks away from the tilted house, there was a yelp to the left and someone swore in a gruff voice. Her heart dropped. Sirius drew his wand, turning swiftly.

'Padfoot, keep going, we'll hold them up,' said one of the invisible boys.

As Sirius dragged her forward she glanced over the shoulder briefly. Two wands were floating in the air, and then a sticky and foul-smelling black liquid spilt on the road. Two sets of boot prints tried to follow them but got stuck immediately. Someone swore again. A moment later something banged loudly. They were immediately running. In haste, Andromeda cast the disillusionment charm.

Sirius did not take her to the gates of the Shrieking Shack. Instead, he brought them around until they reached a blackcurrant shrub. The fence glowed briefly and they were on the grounds. Inside the house, Andromeda cancelled the charms and gaped around in mild alarm. The place was trashed as if a furious bear was throwing itself at the walls repeatedly.

The front door opened and closed quickly. Two teens became visible, grinning ear to ear. Sirius clapped his thighs and laughed boisterously. His friends joined in. The rat squeaked happily. Andromeda tuned out the bragging about their escape from the authorities and went through the first door she spied. Space which once was a sitting room did not look any better than the hall. Andromeda cast homenum revelio and followed the spell through the house. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and squeezed tighter the closer she got to the source of the revealed life force.

Atop the dusty bed in the middle of a half-decent room lay Mirach. Andromeda rushed forward but stopped by her side uncertainly taking in the pale and gaunt features of the sleeping girl and the grey curls plastered over the sweaty forehead. Panic and guilt became almost unbearable. She would have backed away if her feet did not turn to stone. Andromeda stared, breathing shallowly and feeling nauseous. The world span around.

The boys came into the room trading banter with little restraint. Mirach's lashes flattered. Her lovely dark blue eyes opened and gazed back at Andromeda. All breath left her under that piercing regard. She gulped for air when Mirach focused on the boys standing around.

Sirius grinned in a positively dog-like manner. The blond teen blushed and smiled shyly, and the mousy-haired short boy she has not seen before stepped uneasily from leg to leg. When Mirach glanced at the bespectacled wizard he lost control over his fidgeting hand that could not stop messing his already untidy hair.

'Wha's happ'ning?' Mirach said. Her voice was raspy, words - slurred. The witch clumsily sat up. ''ndromeda?'

The question sounded so timid as if the girl was uncertain about what she saw. It made the pain flare in Andromeda's chest and she could not help but reach out.

'Miri...'

As her hand made tentative contact with Mirach's soft cheek, the thin witch flinched as if burnt. Andromeda took a step away, guilt consuming all her being.

'… you r'lly h're?' Mirach slurred cutting through the haze of her self-deprecating thoughts of rejection. The girl was reaching out, weakly, hesitantly.

Andromeda made a step forward, hope and relief blooming sheepishly inside, then another, and next she knew Mirach was in her tight embrace. The return gesture was frail, but to her, it made all the difference in the world.

Andromeda pushed away gently to stare in Mirach's face, breathing deeply in an attempt to stave off tears. She could not stop herself from fussing and trying to caress her sister everywhere at once. _She was so fragile. _Guilty thoughts of what she deserted Mirach to filled her anew. Andromeda fought hard to ignore them.

'I am really here,' she said. _She should have always been._

Mirach shivered violently.

'Are you cold? Hungry? Hurt anywhere?' The questions tumbled from her mouth in quick succession.

Mirach shifted slightly in her embrace. 'You l'ok seri's.'

The words startled Andromeda from her quest of neatly organising the things she wanted to take back to Hogwarts for the next term. She did not know yet she would meet Ted Tonks in the library in a few months.

'You l'k like Bell'trix when you're seri's,' the seven-year-old Mirach said slurring the words. Speech and movement difficulties were the most obvious consequences of Bella's training.

Andromeda replied the same way as all those years ago sticking the tongue out. 'Then I shall always be silly!'

Mirach bubbled with laughter and hugged her.

'You r'lly are here,' the girl whispered, beaming. Andromeda only tightened their embrace.

Sirius cleared his throat. 'Dear cousins, the reunion celebration will have to be postponed as you are now wanted women, not that you weren't before.'

Andromeda sighed at his innuendoes untangling limbs from Mirach. She watched the smaller witch closely. Her heart pounded, nerves started to fray.

'Will you come home with me?'

Mirach slowly blinked completely flabbergasted. 'Home,' she said after a while without inflexion.

Andromeda nodded, feeling sweat breaking out at her hairline and along the spine. She swallowed thickly. 'My home. I will introduce you to my husband and daughter. She is three now.'

Mirach silently gazed at her. After a few moments, she slowly nodded. The first fat tears escaped her eyes.

Manic relief flooded her very bones. Still, Andromeda had to ask.

'You must know there will be no going back afterwards, Miri. You will be disowned immediately.'

Mirach awkwardly shook her head. More tears fell. 'I don' wan' t'go back,' the witch said. 'I w'ld like t'go wit' you.'

Andromeda smiled, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time, and wiped her sister's cheeks. She could not help herself and hugged the girl again. The desire to bring Mirach to a safe place and take extra care of her for every lost day escalated until Andromeda could wait no more. She guided her sister to stand.

'Thank you,' Mirach said, stressing each vowel of the words, beaming at the waiting boys most dazzlingly.

Andromeda smiled as well and after nodding at each of them gratefully met Sirius's gaze. Cousin had the cheek to send her a wink. Answering with one of her own, which made him guffaw uninhibitedly, she grasped Mirach's hand and reached for the unauthorised emergency portkey hidden in her robes that whisked them away.

Mirach stumbled as Andromeda brought her to the front porch of the Greensleeves cottage. The wards trembled briefly and settled around them. A moment later, Ted opened the door, wand at the ready.

'Dromeda!' he shouted crushing her in an embrace until her bones protested. She clung back in search of support. 'Don't ever leave like that again!' His heart beat erratically under her ear, and an enormous, almost painful surge of tenderness and love for him overwhelmed her.

'You must be little Mirach,' Ted said. His voice was gentle. He let go and hugged the girl. Mirach stood in his arms, awkward and stiff at first, but when Ted whispered, 'Thank you for saving their lives,' slowly reciprocated.

Soon enough they were in the living room, Ted chattering away nervously, Andromeda watching her sister closely, and Mirach studying everything around.

Andromeda summoned a quill and parchment. 'Miri, we ought to send a letter to the family.'

When Mirach just sat there quietly, Andromeda grew restless with nervous energy. _Could she have changed her mind?_

'Yes.' The answer was startling and her heart burnt as it plummeted.

'Excellent! How do we begin?' Ted said, clasping hands and producing a loud clap. He turned to Andromeda. She was confused by his reaction. The hurt was ripening. _Begin?_

Ted's expression contorted in a worried frown. 'The letter? Dromeda?'

Abruptly, she rose to her feet and with an excuse of getting tea stalked to the kitchen. Andromeda felt faint and nauseous and could not get enough air. It thickened around her. The pots and pans trembled inside the cupboard, cups and plates clinking-clanking from behind the closed doors of the pantry. The candles on the walls lit one by one.

_She could not even get a firm hold of her magic, how could she have expected Mirach to want to be with them after she abandoned her in that house? Alphard was better suited for-_

Strong arms surrounded her. 'Dromeda,' Ted said. Her magic gradually settled. She focused on his smell and touch, on his breathing and finally on the stove, and teapot, and the window, and the trees dancing in the breeze in the back garden.

She swallowed a great lump in her throat. 'How could I think I fit to care for her?! After I left?! Ted, I left, and look at her now! Just look at-!'

He turned her around and bowed slightly peering fiercely into her eyes. Ted was absolutely breathtaking at that moment.

'In our living room sits a young girl, who needs you. We will go there, write that letter to your family and become her guardians. Your uncle will help if needed but you are her sister and you will take good care of her. Never doubt that.' His tone though kind brooked no argument. All she had left was nod and follow him with tea.

Nerves calmed she even participated in Ted's babbling about the house, the apple trees, and Nymphadora. Mirach listened with rapt attention, staring at the two of them. It put Ted ill at ease and he spouted story after story about Nymphy's clumsiness. Andromeda finally relaxed enough to get amused by her husband's agitation.

The reply from Cygnus came mere minutes after they sent the owl. She immediately recognised the family signature malediction on the letter: the one that made the victim experience excruciatingly painful tooth loss. The urge to leave the room crashed into her like a tidal wave, overwhelming, forceful. Andromeda had to grab Ted's hands to halt them both. She could barely move or speak.

Mirach blanched. Her eyes glazed over, features slacked. They were forced to watch in trance how she slowly reached for the letter. It was a strong compulsion curse based on blood. They were helpless against it. Her panic only strengthened the foul magic.

Mirach touched the parchment. Her mouth filled with red, spilling on her chin and the elegant dark green robe. The gory image grew more disturbing when she started spitting the teeth out into her palm one by one. They looked on, chilled to the bone.

'Miri…' Andromeda whispered. It was all she could muster against the constraints of the curse. Mirach's face was a grimace of pain but she stayed silent nor did she cry in agony.

_Father always threatened them by that curse. It was legal yet excruciating to endure. Was it a lie?_

The magic weakened and the compulsion fell away. Ted rushed to Mirach's side, vanished the blood and the gory sight of piling teeth. He ran a diagnostic spell which gave off mixed colours, red prevailing. It looked alarming. Ted was frowning and asking Mirach repeatedly if she hurt anywhere. The girl shook her head in slow motion. Her gaze was far away.

Andromeda couldn't wait a moment longer. She hugged Mirach, rocking the girl for a while. Ted's warm hand on her shoulder was grounding. It kept the panic and guilt firmly on the edges of her thoughts. Andromeda pushed away gently. Mirach watched her with empty eyes.

'What is wrong, Miri?' she said. 'Tell me, you can tell me. What is wrong with her, Ted?!'

'Must be chock. She doesn't seem to be in pain.'

Andromeda fussed, needing to touch Mirach everywhere at once just to assure there was no more danger. Ted heaved an exasperated sigh when she caressed the girl's face for the umpteenth time but said nothing. He waited patiently and it made her love him all the more.

Finally, Mirach blinked, coming back to herself. She sucked her lips in and wrinkled the nose.

The alarm blared in Andromeda's head. 'What? What is it, Miri?' she said, throwing a glance at Ted. He shrugged.

Mirach furrowed the brows. She brought a hand to her mouth. 'I ha'e no 'eef.'

_…_

_Ah._

_I have no teeth._

'Of course! Ted is a healer. He will fix you right away.' She backed away to give space to her husband.

'Alrighty!' he said. 'Let's see what we've got there. Give me a nice smile, young lady. Though don't overdo it, or I might fall in love and your sister will be jealous!'

Andromeda's face went in flames. 'Teddy!'

'Do you what I mean?' he said with a cheeky grin.

Mirach snorted and moved the hand away from her mouth. She gave a toothless smile, which was so reminiscent of her baby days Andromeda wanted to weep for the lost innocent days. The curse was gruesome but clean. Her gums were neither swollen nor bleeding. Ted hummed and set to work.

'Miri, remember how we used to read folk tales together?' The girl nodded. 'I have found more interesting stories. Let me tell you one,' Andromeda said. Ted reached for her hand and nuzzled, hiding a smitten beam. She was so overwhelmed by his support, she had to swallow sudden tears of gratitude. _Maybe, maybe, she could do it?_

After well over an hour, Ted managed to grow all of Mirach's teeth back. Every once in a while he subtly cast a spell on ether her legs or arms. The witch did not react, listening to Andromeda's ramblings. Mirach did not appear to be bothered by what happened at all. She gazed at her, occasionally humming. Andromeda caught Ted's eyes when he finished and nodded. She didn't quite understand what he was trying to achieve but trusted his actions.

'Mirach,' Ted said. 'As Dromeda said before, I'm a healer. Would you mind if I did a check up on you?'

Mirach contemplated his warm smile, cocking the head. She shrugged. Above them, something crashed with a loud bang and clatter. Ted signed, apologised and darted upstairs. He came back carrying a pink-haired Nymphadora princess style. As soon as Ted sat on the couch Nymphadora scooted over to Mirach and flapped on her lap, bouncing excitedly. Her hair curled, turning grey.

'I'm Sir Robin! You are?'

Mirach lifted her hand slowly and touched Nymphadora's new hairstyle with an absentminded smile. 'I am your aunt Mirach. You must be brave.'

'You know Monty Pie!? Dada, she knows! Is my favourite! We have a cordin, and a tele and-and-! We can watch together!'

The child grew even more animated as she babbled about the film without a pause. Andromeda and Ted exchanged glances. Mirach seemed confused for a moment then her face went blank.

'Who's your favourite? I like Sir Robin, he's so funny!' Nymphadora peered up expectantly.

'The… Frenchman?' she said, rubbing her forehead.

Nymphadora squealed. 'Sirius likes him, too! And daddy! Doncha, daddy?' She jumped at Ted blowing raspberries. He caught her, nodding in bewilderment.

Andromeda cleared her throat. 'Miri, how would you know of a muggle film?'

Her sister froze with a startled look. She opened and closed her mouth several times, eyes jumping all around the room. She frowned and swallowed.

'I… do… not?' she said.

Nymphadora chose that moment to overturn the tea tray with the foot. Ted yelped and jumped away from the table taking her with him. The crash never followed. Ted gaped. Andromeda's eyebrows lifted so high her temples hurt. The tea tray was suspended in the tense air. It slowly set itself back on the coffee table. Not a drop was spilt.

Ted laughed awkwardly. 'Those are some reflexes,' he said sitting down.

'What's flexes, daddy?' The innocent question made him smile. Ted cuddled Nymphadora, kissing her crown.

'Reflex. It's a fast movement, for example, to catch something,' he said. She frowned adorably and nodded.

Mirach relaxed the fingers on the right hand. They curled back against her knee. Andromeda followed the movement before meeting the girl's eyes. She flushed and shifted in her seat, giving a timid smile. Andromeda returned it without a thought.

_A wandless spell? A wand, concealed in the sleeve?_

Her daughter twittered away about all the games they were going to play, films there were to see (mostly consisting of the Holy Grail and also, surprisingly, the Holy Grail), and records - to hear.

'Nymphadora,' Andromeda said. She ignored her exclamation 'Sir Robin!' and a pout that followed. 'Mirach might stay with us. But she could also want to go to Hogwarts.'

The silence that followed was tense. Mirach reacted with one blink and a blank stare.

Nymphadora quickly tired of the quiet. 'I think she dun wanna,' she whispered loudly. Ted gave an ill-timed snort and coughed to hide it.

Andromeda paid them no mind, tentatively reaching for Mirach's hands. They were small, velvety and ice cold. She rubbed them gently between her palms.

'I corresponded with Sirius since when you were supposed to go. And… well, you didn't.' She licked her lips, glancing at Ted for support.

'Now that you are in our care, we can discuss your further education,' he continued in a soothing tone. Mirach gaped and blinked. For the first time in years, she became unrestrainedly animated. Doubt, fright, panic on her face switched to wonder, wistfulness, tentative hope. It all collapsed into resigned fatigue after a heartbeat.

'They will find me,' she said.

The aftertaste of her dejected tone was awful. Andromeda could not stand a second of it. She squeezed Mirach's hands. 'I will not lie to you,' she said. 'Even when we are renounced the family never truly lets anyone go. More-so, the Black family.'

'But Dumbledore will protect you,' finished Ted in an overconfident tone. Andromeda shot him an irritated glance.

Mirach's expression was frozen in a mask of apprehension, but the eyes burned like the bluest sapphires. _They were enthralling._ She slowly nodded.

Nymphadora was counting snifflers on Ted's robes when her stomach growled. 'Hungry!' she said. They relocated to the kitchen table. Andromeda and Ted whipped some express meal with the help of magic. (She had to vanish the burnt stew under Ted's teasing glance.) Mirach sat next to her restless pink-and-grey-haired niece nodding and occasionally breaking into a huge grin. The smiles flattered her.

After dinner, Nymphadora hoarded Mirach towards the tele where they stayed until Andromeda collected her actively protesting daughter for bed. Three stories later and a promise of no strawberries for breakfast she came back to the sitting room. Ted was casting diagnostic spells. She did not know much of healing but was certain the red glow looked ominous for a reason.

Mirach paid no attention to the screening. 'I might put you in danger. Perhaps, I should leave.'

'Codswallop!' Ted said, waving his free hand, not pausing with the casting. 'The house is unplottable.'

Andromeda pursed her lips. 'You are our family and not going anywhere.'

Mirach's lips trembled. She lowered her head.

'I might be more trouble than it's worth,' she whispered. Andromeda kneeled searching her face. The girl flushed pink and tried to hide again.

_She was worth all the trouble in the world! She always was! The more the fools their parents for never seeing it! _Anger flared at the memories of Mirach's uncoordinated movements and trembling hands at the breakfast table so many years ago. _Just how many times did Bella curse her? She was only five for Merlin's sake!_

'Is this about the potions?' Mirach flinched at her harsh tone. Andromeda hurried to amend it, exhaling the ire. 'Because we will take care of it. We will take care of you.' _I will._

Mirach mumbled about repaying and Ted promptly shut her up. 'Better than talking nonsense, is there anything else you want to share with us?' he said.

The extended silence and a long stare made the answer clear. But Mirach slowly shook her head, choosing to conceal the truth. Andromeda hoped she would learn to trust them_._

'You can always talk to us, Miri.' _Let it be nothing dangerous._

Mirach's face closed off. Andromeda thought of their grandfather and his impenetrable facade nurtured by years of occlumency. _Sister had a talent_. Mirach yawned. Her slow hand only covered the mouth by the end of it. _And a lot to learn._ Andromeda smiled fondly and insisted on rest. Unsurprisingly, Mirach didn't argue.

'Thank you,' she said to Ted when they were leaving to get her settled.

'Thank you,' she said when Andromeda unshrank the trunk Mirach had stashed in the pocket of her robes.

'Thank you,' she said as they cuddled crying in the middle of the room.

Andromeda caressed Mirach's curls tenderly, kissing her forehead. 'You are welcome.'

She committed to memory the image of her little sister against the background of the apple trees peeking through the balcony. 'You are welcome.'

She snuggled in Ted's arms, sobbing in regret and relief, as he slept peacefully. 'You are welcome.'

The guilt finally eased but did not let her go.


	4. Protection

4.

_The light, so blinding, beautiful and pure._

_Was I the source?_

_It could not be._

_What would I give to be accepted?_

_It sings so sweetly, yet, rejects my touch._

_I am at fault: the phoenix likes no darkness._

_Why choose me if it didn't want to?_

**Tuesday, October 5, 1976, 12:19pm**

_The day was turning out rather good._

Sirius twirled the wand between his fingers, watching the map. James cast the tickling charm and Snivellus with hair transfigured into hay, his big nose spilling corn all over the floor in the middle of a well-performed dance and a surprisingly in-tune lullaby (dilly, dilly) started laughing hysterically.

'Come on, Snivelly!' James taunted. 'You can do better than that!' He sent a jelly-legs which made Snape collapse on a dilly. His feet frantically danced in the air, giggles still strong. Sirius smirked at the pathetic show. Snivellus didn't last even ten minutes against James. He gave Snape's wand another twirl and tossed it down the corridor.

He folded the map sloppily and stashed it inside his robes. 'Prongs, gotta go. Snivellus, great fun as always.'

James pouted. 'These few weeks you're like a fucking cherry you are - off again.'

Sirius clapped his back and stalked off. _Time waited for no one._

'Hey, mate!' James's shout carried in the empty hallway. 'Don't tell me you're ditching me for a wank!'

Sirius flipped the bird, walking away.

'Are you coming to History at least?'

He had to dodge a stinging hex from James. _What a tosser._

'Skiving off!'

Prongs kept hexing him unsuccessfully until Sirius turned the corner, guffawing all the way.

'Wanker!' his best mate shouted. 'Oi, Snivellus, where are you going? You can't leave me as well!'

Sirius hurried off just as Snape started singing the Hogwarts Song at the top of his lungs.

_Bugger had a nice voice as well, maybe he and James should sing duo._

The thought was hilarious. He snickered, not paying any mind to a lone pair of Hufflepuff girls trying to catch his eye. A brief run-in with the Slytherin was just the excitement that boosted his energy levels. Sirius glanced around, took out James's cloak and disappeared. He strolled to the North Tower.

Divination was not a subject Sirius gave much thought, but it was an easy choice of OWL class and, fortunately, paid off with a breezy Outstanding. He didn't even consider continuing it afterwards, and frankly, could care less about the grim predictions of Peidus or his Ravenclaw protégé who provided entertainment every time she supposedly fell into trance during breakfast.

Two turns ahead, the corridor connected the castle to the tower. Sirius settled to wait and took the map out.

Snivellus was nowhere near the Charms classrooms anymore. Instead, he moved haltingly towards the ground level. James was already at the Great Hall with Remus, undoubtedly stuffing his face and admiring profile of Evans while she sniffed at him.

His stomach growled loudly in an empty corridor. Absentmindedly, Sirius rubbed it looking for Pete. His mate was with Kellaway at the library most probably perving on the new librarian, which in his opinion was not worth a hearty meal. He sneered at Umbridge nameplate pacing along one of the shelves some distance away from Wormtail.

'—funny anymore! You are not getting anything from me until you return every last penny, I'm not fucking kidding with you!' The lad's voice was angry.

'What's a penny?' The other dude didn't sound interested in the least.

'You-what! You take Muggle Studies, don't you?'

'So?'

There was no reply, but in a moment, frustrated Lennox Jordan appeared in the corridor, stalking forward. Bagman smirked slyly, following his friend unhurriedly.

'Ease up, mate,' he said. 'You need to get some and it'll all get better.'

Jordan grew red in the face, passing Sirius, but did not slow down. 'Bugger off!'

Bagman's derisive laughter was annoying. 'What? Girly is keeping you blue?'

Jordan abruptly stopped at the end of the corridor and whirled around with a glare. His shoulders were tense, mouth - open in retort. He sighed heavily and hung the head. Bagman winced, mouthing 'fuck'. In a few large steps, he reached his mate, clapping him on a shoulder companionably.

'She's probably on period or something.' Bagman's tone was rueful.

Jordan heaved another sigh. 'It's been two weeks now,' he said, mouth twisted in a bitter pout. 'Our talk this morning was awful.'

Bagman scratched his cheek. 'Could be the news as well? That muggle-born healer what's-her-face was a shocker.'

Jordan wore a full-on grimace of pain. 'Beth Ashwell. My dad went to school with her. Was the top of the year.'

'Well, whatever, Wynne's father is also one of those.' Bagman contemplated the ceiling.

'What do you mean _one of those_?!' the dark-skinned wizard yelled incredulously. 'I'm also _one of those_, you absolute arsehole!' Jordan glowered looking ready to draw his wand.

Bagman waved, dismissing the outburst entirely. 'Your dad's magical. Plus, you know I don't care for any of that shite anyway, Lenny.'

After a brief glaring contest, Lennox exhaled, shaking his head tiredly.

'Call me Lenny again and I'll sic Black on you,' Jordan said, though the threat had no heat. Sirius took it as his cue to intervene before the boys disappeared around the corner.

'Fellow Gryffindor lads!'

His loud exclamation had the desired effect. Both wizards jumped and whirled around with wild eyes. Lennox clutched the wand in his hand. Sirius smirked.

'It's time for a chat, Jordan.' The wizard in question gulped audibly. Sirius blinked in confusion. _What a… reaction._

'I've got class now, Black,' Jordan said, stepping from foot to foot. Bagman next to him straightened, trying to appear taller.

'Peidus wouldn't even notice you are not there,' Sirius said, advancing. Bagman's fingers twitched with every step. 'Maybe he'll make a prediction of your horrifying death.' It took all his might not to burst into laughter right there and then. Their expressions contorted in an absurd terror. Sirius considered shouting 'Boo!' for a long moment, trying to keep his face straight. A grin broke out and the juniors visibly relaxed. Jordan smiled back shakily.

'Come along then.' Sirius pointed towards the door to the unused classroom near which he invisibly loitered earlier.

Dejected, Jordan went inside. 'See you later, Ludo.'

Bagman seemed to find his voice. 'What? Come on! I don't get to join?'

'Another time, mate.' Sirius stared the blond down until he shrugged in badly feigned boredom and stalked off.

Jordan chose a place a few tables away from the door. He stood stiffly. His wand was still out. When Sirius came in, locked and silenced the classroom, they were well separated by the four rows of desks. It did not feel anything like a friendly meeting. His good humour started to wane.

'Why so strung up, Lennox?' Sirius didn't move from the spot at the door, keeping hands down and in open view, trying to placate the nervous teen.

Jordan exhaled and let out a croaking laugh. He stashed the wand away.

'I've got a lot going on,' the fifth-year said, dragging fingers through the hair. Sirius relaxed but decided against approaching. He slouched against the door, watching the lad step from foot to foot. _Whatever was the issue? _

He cleared his throat. 'So?'

Silence never appealed to Sirius, especially when he got better things to do. His impatience blossomed when the moment dragged on and almost resulted in some encouraging if not very polite words.

Jordan finally opened his mouth, crossing arms in a swift and rather irritated movement. 'Same things really, Black. She's being a proper student, goes to class, reads, writes the notes down. As I say, same stuff. Only…'

Sirius could not quite stop the tapping of his agitated foot. _What was the deal with the dramatic pauses? _'Only..?'

'She doesn't do any magic,' Jordan said, observing him. 'I only realised yesterday afternoon in Charms.'

Sirius clenched his fist until the knuckles popped. _Weeks of exhausting attempts to get something new about Mirach, and the great secret was right under his nose all along?_

'And I think McGonagall noticed as well.'

_Well, fuck. His Head of the House would definitely take note of the slack in a practical part of the lesson. Mirach was in for a treat. _

'But why would she slack?' Sirius wondered out loud, confused.

'Hell if I knew. She's weird.'

Jordan's bitter tone made him snap back to the conversation. _Mirach was weird? Well, Jordan was an absolute dickhead! _Sirius clenched his jaw to halt the snarl. After taking a few deep breaths, he managed to gain some composure. Jordan reacted to the rising tension and went into the defence position again. Sirius sneered.

_Should've thought before opening his trap. Maybe, a curse to the ugly face would help?_

'What the fuck is your problem? I can find another fifth-year to help me look after my cousin!' He pointed jerkily between them.

When Jordan unsuccessfully tried to speak several times, Sirius whirled to the door, reaching for the wand to dismantle the wards. _What a colossal waste of time. The tosser deserved to get his ass whipped._

'Is your family with You-Know-Who?!' The question rushed out from Jordan's mouth in a gurgle of words and short breath.

_Family… What family did he mean exactly?_

Sirius slowly turned around. However his expression looked, it made the dark-skinned boy clench the wand.

'What'd you say?'

Jordan panted and perspired but stood tall and brave in the face of the perceived danger. _A true Gryffindor._ Sirius was inappropriately overwhelmed by the ill-timed desire to cackle.

'Are you and her Death Eaters?'

Sirius could not stop a snort that morphed quickly into a guffaw. Jordan blinked. The perplexity became outrage soon enough which only made him laugh harder.

'Why?' Sirius wheezed, 'why would you think so?'

His belly hurt from hunger and laughter but he kept at it for a full minute. Jordan looked hesitant about his judgment. He again was a confused and nervous boy rather than a wizard ready to duel for his life.

'The other day your cousin appeared in the Prophet, you know,' Lennox said, watching the floor. 'She was suspected to have been involved in the murder of Grantleys.'

Padfoot threw his head back and eyed the gently swaying cobwebs in the ceiling.

_Of course, Bellatrix did. Mother probably went bonkers that she ended up in the paper with such an unsavoury commentary._

'Bella is a well-known blood fanatic. I wouldn't be surprised if she killed them.' He thought the webs formed a lovely pattern in their mysterious dance.

Jordan sucked the air with a whistle.

Sirius focused on the wizard. 'Whenever have you heard me harass anyone because of blood?'

The question was rhetorical. Jordan went to reply.

'Evans is a muggle-born.'

'And I've never sneered at her, have I?' Sirius said, scandalised. 'Last year Snape called her the M-word! I and James stood up for her!'

Jordan had a guilty but determined mien. 'There are whispers that Mirach is prejudiced.'

Speechless, Sirius gaped. The smug expression of Lennox's face didn't register.

_That could not be true. It couldn't, could it..?_

_How could he have missed that?_

'And is she?' he managed to ask.

Lennox dropped the self-satisfied smile and scratched his chin with the tip of the wand in an exaggerated move, contemplating the question.

'I don't know,' he said with a shrug. Sirius bristled. _Then why the fuck-?_ 'She's always alone reading and she doesn't talk much. There's a rumour she hates her House and doesn't speak to anyone because she thinks they are all lesser than her.'

That was such a nasty thing to hear regarding Mirach. Since she's been at Hogwarts and during all the times Sirius discreetly followed her under the cloak the girl was shy and only ever read and studied.

_So what if she was a tad unsocial?_

His temper raised another few notches. 'Right. Right.' Sirius quickly cancelled the spells.

'Black,' Lennox said, 'I'm sorry about my tantrum.'

Padfoot glanced back and waved dismissively before leaving.

'I'll keep looking after her!' Jordan called.

His thoughts were already fully focused on Mirach. 'Thanks.'

He found her on the map easily enough hiding in the abandoned classroom a few corridors away from where McClaggan liked to hold the Defence lessons. Sirius made sure no one was around, put on the cloak and went to the second floor.

The door was locked not a sound leaking outside. Sirius bounced on heels twirling the wand between his fingers. Mirach was brilliant at protective enchantments but tended to focus on blood. Sirius reckoned she would grow out of it once she read more appropriate books from the Hogwarts library. Her preferences at the moment, however, were to his advantage. Sirius pricked his finger and let the drop of blood touch the dark wood.

The door swung open. Inside, everything was quiet. He hurried through and towards the corner of the room, trying not to make a sound. A sweet and unpleasant scent permeated the air. Mirach slowly looked up from the desk with wand half-raised, expression annoyed. The witch didn't seem to notice his muted steps or was in any way surprised by the disruption. As abruptly as it opened, the door shut itself with an angry bang.

_Someone was a little upset today._

Sirius slouched in the corner, concentrating on staying still. He hadn't caught Mirach practising magic alone before and was eager for new information. Soon, his interest strayed. After several minutes she was yet to be successful in casting a single spell. The wand rested listlessly in her right palm. She didn't say any incantation. No magic was done.

The practice confused him as he kept observing. _Why would she not speak and see if it works? Could she have been practising silent spells? She didn't make wand movements either._ Questions piled until he started contemplating showing himself.

Mirach screamed.

The sound was so painful to hear, it promptly turned his brain empty of any thought. The girl threw the wand as far as she could which wasn't much at all. She couldn't move the arm fast enough or had enough strength. _Mirach was more fragile than he thought._

The girl's mouth twisted in a resentful sneer. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears. The air thickened like in the evening before the midnight storm. The desks lifted and hovered all around the classroom. Sirius was about to join them but he was quick to cast a sticking charm on his feet.

Mirach stood in the midst of the floating chaos, right hand extended, palm open. She breathed deeply, curls coiling each and every way and swaying like underwater. Her eyes could've been easily compared to the bluebell flames. A tickle of fear raised the fine hairs of Sirius's arms. His animagus form would have certainly been snarling in alarm.

The witch slightly spread the fingers. The desks flew and slammed into the walls with a great force that had the hardwood splinter all around. Sirius was lucky to miss any bit in his face. Like the tables, he was pushed roughly into the stone bricks which were fortunately close behind him. Still, he groaned in pain. Mirach who was gazing around with a heart-broken expression heard the noise. She scowled at the corner where he was and slightly raised the right hand again. Sirius gripped the wand. His heart skipped a beat and another.

Nothing happened.

Sirius exhaled softly. Mirach frowned, rubbing the forehead.

The fingers of her hand twitched and the wand came flying. Next spell must've been a reparo. The desks instantly fixed themselves, some so fast, they exploded. She sighed resignedly, put the wand down, and repaired the rest of the wreckage. Once the order was restored, Mirach accioed the feather and the metal band, levitated them on the table in front of her and settled to continue the practice of what must have been a switching spell. Her demeanour was once again calm and collected.

Sirius, on the contrary, couldn't relax. His back hurt like a bitch, the head pounded in the same rhythm with his erratic heartbeat. He was hungry and above all, he wanted to confront her there and then. What he had just witnessed was a magic tantrum worthy of those their grandfather Pollux was famous for. Add the wandless spells, Mirach obviously had the talent for, and it became a deadly combination. The chills run up and down his spine.

_Could she truly be twisted as the rumours implied?_

He studied Mirach's persistent attempts to cast the spell over, and over, and over again. She hadn't stopped once for the next hour. _Anyone would've been frustrated if their wand didn't work properly! _Mirach couldn't be like most of his twisted family. James was wrong. The rumours were lies. She saved Andromeda. She escaped from her family. She was sorted into Hufflepuff for Merlin's sake!

Dumbledore made sure to promote his tolerant views not only by admitting her at an unprecedented age of fifteen but also by sorting the witch in front of the whole school. And how loudly Sirius laughed. _A Black! In Hufflepuff! Cousin got one over on him a few minutes after she stepped into the school!_ Mirach's face was so fabulously flabbergasted it immediately set him off. The badgers glared for a full week afterwards.

However fantastical the event seemed, the howler that came to her during lunch a few hours later was proof enough of the reality of the mad Hat's decision.

_You dare show your face at Hogwarts and besmirch the family name further by not joining a respectable house. Blood traitor! You have made your choice now, girl. And let me tell you, when you are found in the gutter among the filth you belong with no true Black will mourn you or seek retribution. You are no daughter of mine! Shall I ever see your face again I will not hesitate to do what I should have done years ago._

The letter blew up in front of her but the bits of paper froze for a second then two. As Mirach slowly lifted both hands off the table with her wand clutched in the left, what remained of the vile message floated up and exploded several times over, multiplying. Kids screamed. McGonagall was rising from the table only to be waved at by Dumbledore who observed Mirach curiously.

As soon as the charmed ceiling was completely obstructed by the cloud of multiplying paper, it parted in four places, each separate section changing colour and swarming towards one of the student tables. With a slight turn of the wand, followed by startled laughter, Mirach had green and silver snake doing zigzag dance and winking above the Slytherin table; blue and bronze eagle making pirouettes while artfully spreading wings above the Ravenclaw; yellow and black badger rotating on its head and wiggling limbs above Hufflepuffs; and red and gold lion stretching the front and back paws and rolling over above Gryffindors. A moment later, each mascot did a kulbit and rushed headfirst towards the middle of each table making the students yelp and scatter from their seats by exploding in a flurry of colourful paper that seemed to shrivel and disappear into the non-being.

A hush fell over the hall, similar to the silence immediately after the howler, although its quality was much more cheerful. Sirius whooped which James copied and the students roared, and applauded, and guffawed. Dumbledore rose from his seat, joining the applause. He waved the wand making the food vanish. Soon the tables disappeared and finally, the benches were gone once everyone was standing. The view of the charmed ceiling was blocked once again by the dancing and flopping yellow daffodils and fluttering butterflies. The Waltz of Flowers played.

Many younger students of all houses formed pairs. First years gazed open-mouthed at the daffodils pointing here and there. Sirius ran to Mirach, gathered the petite witch in his arms and twirled her around. She beamed most radiantly, and everything was so exhilarating he could've combusted.

Sirius shook his aching head, dismissing all worries about her possible intolerance. Mirach was disowned by the Blacks, openly threatened by her own father. There were no sinister plots. The chances of her following Bellatrix's path were slim. She was a diligent student, who had a problem with her new wand.

His lip curled just by thinking that the witch was denied her birthright for so long. Sirius watched her cast repeatedly. _The late bonding must've affected the connection. _

_Cousin had a hell of determination and patience, he could give her that._

It was bizarre how contradictory Mirach's magic behaved. She successfully performed advanced transfiguration in the Great Hall but could not do a simple switching spell. Weeks ago at Ollivander's, her first spell was a patronus but an hour ago the witch failed at reparo. Sirius let his pounding head fall into his palms, flexing fingers and massaging the scalp to appease the pain. He was positive the problem had to do with the wand.

Ollivander brought it out after looking at them both for a moment: 'Ah, youngest miss Black!' Apparently, wandlore rendered any disguise redundant. Once in her left hand, the rowan wand produced the strongest reaction Sirius had ever witnessed. The air tensed with energy, a gust of wind scattered parchment helter-skelter, candles burned with flames foot high.

'Go on then, casting would strengthen the bond,' wizard said. His pale blue eyes observed with interest.

Mirach wore the most relieved and elated expression, which Sirius found unbearably sad. _No one should be deprived of their magic!_ The witch nodded and gave the wand a little twitch. The tip spilt the whitest mist into the shop. It illuminated every corner and dragged him out of the resentful mood.

They had to leave right away. Glamoured Andromeda rushed them out after several explosions rumbled at the other end of the Diagon Alley. As they twisted on the spot at the front steps of Ollivander's, Sirius glimpsed a woman with a familiar head of inky black curls. She exited the Idle Stories. Sure enough, the next front page of The Prophet was devoted to the explosions and the murder of the muggle-born owner of that bookstore Michael Idle. The news also reported his half-blood assistant Natalie Holkham to have been admitted to the Janus Thickey Ward because she was driven insane.

Mirach had no connection to whatever Bella devoted her time to. She was with him the whole trip, while Andromeda purchased the other missing supplies. She was also genuinely worried when they apparated.

_Cousin could not be a blood fanatic._

'Permuto,' Mirach said. The feather she was pointing the wand at exploded.

Sirius would've fallen if he wasn't already on the floor. Getting to his feet he reckoned that reaction was why she didn't speak the incantations. _What a truly bizarre situation_. Sirius scratched his stubble, dismissing the problem for the moment, and cast tempus silently. It was 14:34 and high time for her Defence class. A few minutes later, however, Mirach was still practising transfiguration. Just as he prepared for another long hour, the witch summoned her bag and strolled out. Sirius sulked about not getting a word of goodbye, shook off the cloak and went to investigate her study station. The feather weighted at least 2 pounds and the metal band was lighter than his lunch today.

_Was she successful finally?_

Stomach growling, Sirius went to the kitchens. His mind wasn't able to concentrate on anything but food anymore. After gorging a hearty meal provided by the elves his throbbing head was still fuzzy. He invisibly wandered the halls jelly-jinxing several snakes along the way, contributing to the whispers of a ghost that had it out for Slytherins. Sirius cackled just thinking of it.

He tried to do some assignments but failed miserably. His thoughts kept looping around Mirach's tantrum, their trip to the Diagon Alley, and the rumours which in his imagination grew more outrageous on each repeat. By dinner, the parchment in front of him was still blank. The smarting inside the skull only intensified. His throat was dry and rough as sandpaper.

The food tasted bland, the pumpkin juice - heavenly. He couldn't get enough. The Great Hall was filled with loud and annoying noises. James was yet to shut up about the high note he made Snivellus reach with the help of a stinging hex. On the third encore of the story, Evans was grinding her teeth so hard, the tendons of her neck stiffened. Cheeks flushed, she silently got up and walked out. Remus sat pale and disapproving of both James's story and Sirius's skipping of History. Pete snickered to himself about something they definitely didn't want to know.

Somehow, he managed to survive. Once they were in the Marauder's corner of the Gryffindor tower, Sirius collapsed in the chair, hands going to his pounding temples. Belly full of juice made him extremely uncomfortable. Yet, he was thirsty. His mates pestered him until Sirius snapped that 'Everything was bloody fine!' Such a response put James in the mood. Remus frowned but continued with his homework. Peter gaped but quickly settled for the attentive worship-listening to James's nonsense that he liked to indulge in.

Sirius rolled the fag, careful not to drop a pinch of tobacco on the floor. James watched with raised brows, running mouth with some poppycock. Padfoot smoked greedily sucking the fumes in pleasure. Remus looked up with a frown and exchanged confused glances with James who burst into laughter.

'What the fuck, mate?'

Half an hour of the humming noise later, Sirius was ready for a kip. Relaxing further into the chair he missed the glint in James's eyes. He yelped from the sharp pain in the shin. Rubbing the sore spot, Sirius looked for the fag he dropped earlier. It wasn't on the table or under the chair. Slouching against the armrest on the floor, he swallowed several times. His mouth was drier than McGonagall's humour. A lump formed at the back of his throat. He tried to clear it which only made his forehead flare with a stabbing pain.

_Fucking fantastic._

Prongs flopped on the floor opposite him with a constipated expression. Sirius saw double and closed the eyes, lowering his tender head on the padded surface.

'I asked Mirach to join us,' Prongs said.

His brain was aching and slow but James could only talk of one thing so close to the full moon.

'You did not.' The words came out in a croak. Sirius swallowed repeatedly. He cast aguamenti, aiming into his mouth. The water spilt everywhere. Any sleep left him in a couple of groggy blinks.

'Buggering hell!' Remus frantically waved the wand, getting rid of the spillage on his essay. The ink was completely smudged on half of the scroll. With a mighty scowl, Moony packed and stalked off.

'I'm talking to Remus now, mate.' James stared right at Sirius.

A bright flash flickered somewhere behind him. Sirius drew the smoke from the fag into his lungs. _Why did he feel so buoyant?_

Sirius concentrated on the burning cigarette in his fingers rather than the doubling image of his best mate and the funny floating sensation in the limbs.

'You're a wanker, Prongs. She cannot come, she is still unwell.'

James messed his hair, sitting straighter. 'I had to... apologise. I was a real berk'.

'Ha!' Sirius pointed a derisive finger. The fag was gone again. He dropped on wobbly fours.

James joined in his crawling search party. 'You have to admit, Padfoot, she was damn annoying with that manner of hers… What the fuck are we doing?'

Sirius forgot the hunt and sent a curse which Prongs dodged, swiftly jumping to his feet. He ambled around, mocking Mirach's style of walk.

'Did you see how she glides around the school? Evans got nothing on that!'

James tittered, continuing with his one person runway show of a wanker. The red-haired witch left the room without a glance in their direction. While James stood dejected Sirius aimed and cast anteoculatia.

'Ah, shite! Padfoot, you are a twat!'

In a few seconds, James sported some quality antlers. Sirius guffawed from the floor.

'You finally got a real pair!' Peter's laughter was contagious and soon all Gryffindors in the common room were in an uproar. The fun reached the new heights after Pete was jinxed to dance but promptly died out when Remus cancelled the spell.

James felt along the antlers, moving his head frantically in an attempt to take a look. Sirius was wheezing on the floor, sides hurting.

'Fuck you, Padfoot, that was low,' Prongs said, pouting. 'And I already apologised to your cousin.' He flopped down next to him. Sirius couldn't catch a breath from laughing.

'She is a real twat though, you know.'

This time, his stinging hex was faster than antlered James's reflexes. Sirius sniggered, laying down on the blissfully cold stones.

Prongs threw his arms in the air. 'It's true! I asked her to come and she had the gall to pretend not to know what I was even talking about!'

'Why would she?' Remus said, bewildered. Sirius rose on the forearms, frowning. Moony sat at the table with his neat homework as if he'd never left at all. Something inside his skull gave a nasty throb and he collapsed back on the floor.

'Alright, so she didn't pretend or whatnot, she just...' James's voice was getting distant and fuzzy. 'I don't know, she looked confused and then put on this stupid blank face...' The floor was a quicksand that swallowed him whole.

Sirius sat up with a jolt. James smirked above him, triumphantly brandishing the wand.

'Now, Padded Paddy Pads Padfoot, you need to explain yourself.'

Sirius got up shakily. The walls were spinning around in time with throbbing in his temples. 'Nothing to explain,' he grumbled trying to move past his mate and get to bed.

'I don't think so! You are spying on her, so spill, what did you find out?' James artfully manoeuvred them to the sofa.

The common room was empty. The clock chimed one in the morning. Sirius yawned, stretching the limbs. The flashes behind him were annoying but didn't provoke more pain in his brain like before. The floating sensation disappeared. His mouth was full of cotton. Sirius tried to spit it out.

'I'm not spying. Looking after.' He got up, intending to go to the dorm. Regulus stood by the staircase. 'What?' Sirius blinked and his brother was gone. James was still talking.

'…cloak, running off after every class. You've abandoned us, mate! And the map!' Prongs waved it around. 'How long were you going to keep it?'

Sirius couldn't shake the vision off. His heart stuttered, nausea swelled. James kept rambling.

'…dromeda didn't ask you to spy on her every step, only to check on her from time to time-'

_What?_

'Wha-?' Acid filled his mouth. Sirius doubled over, ready to be violently ill.

'Padfoot!' Prongs said, darting to his side.

Nausea passed as suddenly as it came. Sirius slowly straightened, clutching at James's robes. 'How? How would you know what she asked?'

Prongs's mouth twitched, his breathing stammered. 'I've read her letter to you,' he said in a hoarse voice.

Pain flared in Sirius's skull. His face contorted in a disdainful grimace, chest constricted, a sharp throb shot through its middle. He shoved his best mate and watched him trip on the stone and fall.

'What other letters did you read, James?' Sirius said, clenching the teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He felt hot and cold at once. 'Did you read the one from my brother? What did you think?'

Prongs stared up with wide eyes, glasses askew. His expression was open and vulnerable like in the third year when they faced their boggart. Sirius sneered, feeling a traitorous itch inside his nose. Unable to look at James anymore, he spun around and stormed off.

The candles flickered in the bathroom as he jerkily disrobed. The reflection was distorted but Sirius had no intention to watch his disgusting self. The water was blissfully warm. The shower massaged his sore head. The ache in his chest smouldered like coal on unprotected skin. He pummelled the wall, taking comfort in familiar pain. A scream stuck in his ribcage tearing him apart.

_'A waste of space,' mother called him._

His parents were uptight delusional bigots. His cousin was an openly murderous fanatic. So-called friends read his private correspondence. His foolish brother was a supremacist wanker.

Sirius didn't care about anyone's opinion. He gave no fucks about the idiotic thoughts of one little Slytherin. He did not feel relief when Regulus agreed to meet at the beginning of the semester. His eyes did not burn when Regulus smiled tentatively in greeting. He was not upset when Regulus stormed off. Sirius had no business with the Slytherin anymore.

Tears came and mixed with the water.

They gazed at each other closely for the first time in years.

'Have you made up your mind?' His brother's voice was hopeful and warm. Sirius basked in it. _If only they could forget their parents and support each other._

He waved a hand dismissively. 'This nonsense again? I wanted to talk about Mirach.'

Regulus frosted over in a heartbeat and soon in front of him stood a familiar figure of a proper disdaining Slytherin prefect. 'You are here to talk about cousin,' he repeated slowly.

'Yeah.' Sirius was familiar with the mood swings. Mother used to flip like a coin. _And he was the unreasonable one?_

'It took you several months to finally come to me,' Regulus said, nostrils flaring. 'And you want, to _talk about Mirach?' _The seething tone was just like father's.

Sirius drew a breath to ground himself. _Of course, he didn't come here to discuss their hag of a mother or the sinister plots she filled Regulus's head with._ How he craved to talk to his brother without fighting for a change.

'First!' Sirius said, counting fingers in raising agitation. 'I wasn't the only one doing the ignoring. Second, Mirach most probably will come to school. Third!' Sirius said when Regulus opened his mouth. 'The very idea is laughable. I am not going back!'

Perhaps, it wasn't the best strategy to stay calm. But he was quite proud of himself. Rendering his articulate brother mute was even more difficult. _Going back to Grimmauld! Har-har, mother! Surely, Regulus came to the same conclusion. _The temperature in the room dropped further. _Or not…_

'Our mother is attempting reconciliation, Sirius. You really hurt her.' Regulus glowered at the poorly suppressed sniggers.

Sirius's eyes bulged in disbelief, a sneer curled the lips. '_Our mother_ is a heartless bitch!'

Regulus hissed, whipping out his wand.

'Gonna curse me now, brother?' Sirius was ready for the inevitable duel. It seemed his wish for a calm talk didn't come true this time as well. He heaved a sigh. _There was always another day._

Sirius was in defence position as soon as the Slytherins's hand moved. The door behind them slammed open. Regulus searched his face for a long moment. His dark glare glowed, brows were furrowed, jaw - set.

'You are no brother to me.'

Sirius could have sworn he was hit with incarcerous. But he didn't collapse and still had control of all movement. The ropes squeezed around his chest so tight Sirius could not catch a breath. His throat closed, chocking him. His eyes burned as if about to melt. Distantly, he heard the pounding.

James barged in after blasting the door off of its hinges. 'Sirius!'

'Sod off!' He threw the soap bar at Prongs. It struck him on the forehead. James cursed.

'I only read ONE letter, Padfoot,' he said flapping the arms around aggressively, slipping on the floor in agitation. 'One fucking letter! Because I was worried. I swear I touched no other.'

James breathed shallowly, clenching and unclenching the fists. His hair was an even bigger mess than after a Quiddich match. His expression was so earnest and fragile, Sirius could not bear to look at it. He could not speak either.

_Why couldn't Regulus be like that?_

'Right,' Sirius whispered, sagging against the wall. He watched the patterns water created in its run down the stones. 'Right.'

James grinned, messing the hair vigorously, dislodging the glasses in excitement. Padfoot had seen the expression many times during the summer in response to each inevitable pardon fondly granted by Euphemia to her son.

'Will you bugger off though? I'm starkers.'

Getting into bed after the pity fest was bliss. His head was light, mind empty for once. The covers and mattress were soft, pillows feathery.

'Hey, Padfoot,' James mumbled, no doubt close to sleep himself. 'Teach me that antlers spell. Snivellus would never see it coming…'

A cat was sat at the door, swishing its tail angrily. Sirius bared his teeth and hissed. It grew frightened. Regret twisted in his gut and he went to console the animal, picking it up. The kitten purred loudly, seeking shelter in his arms, burrowing into his neck. Sirius settled back on the bed. An enormous acromantula spiralled down from the ceiling, its hirsute legs stretched menacingly towards him. Sirius startled awake.

The room was quiet and dark, but his mattress was full of strings, blankets suffocated him. Sirius padded to Prongs's nightstand, grabbed the map and settled on the floor, leaning against his mate's bed frame. Regulus was in the Slytherin dorm. Sirius watched his unmoving nameplate until he was about to doze off. Checking the Hufflepuff dorms jolted him out of sleep at once. Heart racing, Sirius frantically searched for Mirach.

He shook his mate. 'James! I can't find her!'

Prongs sat up, wincing from the wand light. Remus grumbled something in his sleep. Pete turned to another side.

'Where is she? Where is she!?' Sirius was breathing shallowly, scanning every corner of the map. _How he could have lost her as well?_

James squeezed his shoulder and joined the search.

Sirius scrambled up and paced. 'We have to go to Dumbledore!' _He wasn't going to fail anymore._ His scalp hurt from all the tearing he's done to his hair. 'We have to-'

'There!' James said, pointing at the map. Sirius flopped down unceremoniously.

Mirach was by the Quidditch Pitch.

'We have to go!' He snatched his wand, grabbed the broomstick and turned to the flabbergasted James. 'Let's go!'

Bespectacled teen lifted his shoulders, face unsure, and blinked slowly. Sirius snarled and stalked off to the windows.

'Wait, Padfoot!'

They raced all the way down in a blink. The filly was taking a nap peacefully in the tall grass. Sirius laughed softly, sweeping the windblown hair away from his eyes. Relief poured in his bloodstream, cancelling out the adrenaline. Prongs made an irritated noise and dramatically threw hands into the air. Sirius transformed. His headache was instantly gone, lights didn't flash in the periphery anymore. His senses sharpened, but he had no desire to sniff around. He was exhausted.

'Wha-?'

Padfoot growled for his mate to shut up and curled next to Mirach. James signed, looked skyward and messed his hair.

'I'm not sleeping as Prongs!' he whisper-exclaimed. Padfoot twitched his ears, already drifting off. With a long-suffering sigh, James settled on the other side of the filly.

Sirius awoke gradually to the unpleasant feeling of his toasty neck cooling down. He blinked and everything sharpened in the darkness around. Silver filly stood above James, its muzzle almost touching his sleeping face. Padfoot changed and approached. Mirach blew a gentle breath (Prongs's lashes fluttered) and transformed, stumbling forward. Sirius caught her by the slender arm.

'Just like Harry, isn't he?' she said softly, still looking at Prongs.

'Who?'

The question startled her badly. Mirach turned to him blinking rapidly, face - a mask of uncertainty. She rubbed the forehead with a slightly trembling hand.

'Someone I knew once, I think,' she whispered, hiding her face. He was burning to ask more questions but couldn't bring himself to upset the girl further.

Sirius looked Mirach over, filing away the familiar features: the messy silver ringlets, that defied any glamour or dye, shining in the moonlight; her slight frame though not as gaunt as a month ago; the pretty big eyes with purple circles around them. The need to protect pulsed in time with his pounding heart.

_But how was he to make sure she was true?_

'Why aren't you in the dorm?' he said, holding back the urge to brush the curls away from her cheeks.

Mirach had to crane the neck to meet his gaze. She smelled faintly of fresh grass and honeysuckle. 'I could not sleep. You?'

'Same.' _How was he to ask?_

She broke their staring contest. 'How did you find me?'

'I looked.'

Mirach hummed and drew a huge breath. Her lashes fluttered. She was so small and fragile. 'The air is so fresh out here,' she said, looking at the lightening sky.

It was his turn to hum.

_What should he ask? Do you believe in blood purity? Are you like Bella? Do you worship Voldemort?_

The question that burst through was neither. 'Are you happy here? Are you happy among the Hufflepuffs?' Sirius felt sick after this cowardice attack but couldn't make himself hurl accusations at her.

Mirach's regard was piercing. Her dark blue eyes glistened. 'My house values effort above anything else,' she said carefully to answer the unasked question, playing by his rules.

Sirius smiled fondly, letting out an involuntary chuckle. 'You are such a Slytherin though, cousin.'

Mirach raised the eyebrow. 'So are you.' She smirked at his scowl and went to caress his cheek. The hand was trembling, which caught her attention. Face going blank, Mirach dropped the limb. It flopped listlessly to her side. Sirius frowned and bit his tongue to stop a million worried questions.

'I ought to go.' She walked away slowly. Sirius rubbed his neck in frustration.

_How was he supposed to look after her if she wouldn't let him?_

He reached the witch in three large steps and clasped her cold slim wrists. 'Mirach,' he said breathing the morning air. The need to speak was overwhelming.

_But what should he say?_

_Don't be like Bella, like mom, like his father. _

_Don't pull away like Regulus. _

_Stop hiding and just tell me everything already!_

_…_

_Please, please, speak to me._

'You know you can always talk to me, yeah?' he said in the end, managing to startle Mirach again. Surprise broke through her bland mask.

'Yeah,' she said and tried to pull away.

_No, it wouldn't do. He wasn't going to simply let go anymore._

'I mean I'm looking out for you.' Sirius strengthened his hold, needing her to understand what he didn't say, _couldn't say_ out loud yet.

'Yeah,' the witch repeated with a gentle smile, squeezing his hands slightly. Sirius let go with a sigh and watched her amble towards the castle. The brightening sky tinted her silver hair violet.

He was going to make sure Mirach didn't stray like his idiot brother. The resolve to make everything right for once burned inside him like hell-fires.

Sirius yawned and stalked to James. The bugger slept sweetly. He kicked his shin. Prongs jolted awake with an indignant yelp. Sirius stretched as the first rays of sunrise warmed his upturned face. Ahead lay a new day and he had a witch to protect.


	5. Monster

5.

_My mind plays tricks._

_What is the truth?_

_Who was he? Who was she?_

_The wand tip glows and makes us see_

_The fantasy so real and bizarre._

_I'm certain I have lost it in that sitting room long time ago._

**Monday, November 8, 1976, 5:03am**

Chalky curtains around his cot and a dark rectangle of the high ceiling above triggered a lucid fantasy of looking out from a grave into the void. The white fabric swayed gently in the breeze. Faces danced on its surface. Remus studied their features, tracing them with fingertips just as he had done countless early mornings before.

As a child, Remus had the most vivid imagination. The walls came to life and told him stories in the twilight. Closets opened, and red eyes stared from deep within. The ceiling was a field where all kind of creatures run and played. And under the bed hid a monster, who always tried to steal his covers: the only shield that could have defended him. Mother retold fascinating tales of mermaids who strived to become part of man's world; of witches that cursed to sleep and turned into dragons; of wolves that were so intelligent they could pretend to be human. The evil in her lullabies was always exposed and punished according to its crimes. The beasts were hiding in the dark because they could not come into the light.

The moon shone hauntingly bright on the night the monster finally crawled from under the bed. Its teeth and sharp claws were not scarier than Remus dreamed, and, ever the tactile child, he lifted the hands to follow their contours. The bite was agony. Remus screamed, terrified out of his mind, more so, feeling an endless betrayal by the stories that promised no evil to ever reach him in the light.

Soon, he was the real monster. And just as his attacker, he was free to venture outside of the shadows.

His fantasies developed cracks which only grew with every move their family had to endure until finally, everything shattered. One routinised early morning a day after the moon, he woke up bruised and mauled, with blood still fresh on his tongue that made him sick all over the pyjamas. His bandages were soaking. The pain was unimaginable. His parents panicked and fought and screamed with him. Crimson rivers flowed from the lacerations on his chest and arms. Delirious, he begged for relief, implored mom to take the pain away, plead with dad to help him. It was the first of the most ferocious transformations Remus survived. Many more were to come

As the Lupins relocated yet again, their small village was devastated by the news of a child he used to play with dying in excruciating pain from hydrophobia. The cause was but a scratch on the wrist.

The unthinkable was rationally assumed.

For weeks father spoke of nothing. Mother cried every moment she was awake. After they shut Remus in the dark cellar instead of a cage and, for the first time, chained him to the wall farthest from the door, he finally felt like the true monster dwelling in the shadows where it belonged. The realisation was both an excruciating torture and a comforting revelation for his ten-year-old mind.

Gloom before the dawn became his favourite hour to contemplate the void. With the sharpened vision, he followed the patterns of images his mind drew on the canvas of stripped walls and pale curtains. The only early mornings he ever missed were after the transformations, which with every month, as his body developed, turned nastier and occasionally more feral. At twelve Remus accepted them as fair payment for being able to study at Hogwarts and, surprisingly, making friends.

The last two moons were the most agonising he yet experienced despite the support of his mates in forms of friendly animals. Nevertheless, Remus welcomed the pain. It was well deserved in the wake of his blossoming fascination with an innocent human girl from a respectable family. Admittedly, Mirach could not compare to the prettiest of Blacks but the witch showed a promise to grow into a natural beauty well worth her pedigree.

To Remus, however, the most value had her immediate acceptance of the monster he was. More often he found the thoughtless twilights to be filled with repeating memories of the stumbling jest of a proposal, of the heather scent that lingered on the soft skin of frail shoulder, and of her sleeping figure in the bed where he lay so many pre-transformation evenings.

This development was unacceptable. So Remus behaved in a manner he long mastered: avoided the witch. It was not difficult as well. Mirach joined the fifth-years in a different house, spent little in the Great Hall and mostly stuck to a secluded nook in the library. Still, whenever James interrogated Sirius about the girl, out of control his ears perked, attention sharpened and heart pumped faster. She was glowing every time Remus caught himself watching the witch, waiting for the sunny smiles. _How he wished to be the sole spectator of them._ _How he wished to forget ever meeting her._

The entrance door clicked shut, sound unsettling in the eerie darkness. Faint footsteps followed, accompanied by the rustle of fabric. Remus startled at the noise, pulse stuttering and quickening. He always made sure to leave the Hospital Wing before breakfast to avoid curious stares, and not once yet anyone was in early need of a nurse. _Could the time have skipped again while he was pitifully daydreaming about what he shouldn't have?_ His wand rested on the side table behind the curtains, and to grab it Remus had to announce himself. The room was still occluded by shadows: it couldn't have been later than half-past six. His musings about the urgency of casting tempus were interrupted by the shuffling of many skirts he associated with the school matron.

'Miss Black, you are way too early,' Madam Pomfrey said. In the quiet, to him, the murmur sounded as loud as a thunder of apparition. Remus clutched the covers, restraining the impulse to sit, trying to regulate his suddenly erratic breathing. 'The potions are on the cabinet. I will be with you shortly.'

More shuffling later there were two soft pops and a faint aroma of cherries, chamomile and honeysuckle spread across the room. The noise of a shattering glass that followed was deafening. Remus shifted and managed to slightly part the curtains at the corner of the cot with his foot. Mirach watched the shards scattered on the floor. Her pale face and light grey hair contrasted sharply with her long dark robes and the dimness around.

The nurse appeared in front of her, repairing the vial with a wave of the wand. 'Miss! Have you finished the potion?' Mirach nodded. 'You were supposed to wait! Your pride is a hinder. Tomorrow you ought to come even earlier.'

Heart booming in his ears, Remus struggled to catch Mirach's soft reply.

'-elf bring it to me?'

'To the girls' dormitory?' Madam Pomfrey said, incredulous. 'I don't think so. Besides, the walks are good for you. Unless you feel any discomfort?'

Whatever the girl mumbled, it made the nurse fret in a way she only ever did with his own healing after a particularly nasty full moon. Remus frowned and shifted closer to the gap.

'Any kind of discomfort and you come here, do you understand, girl? Your case is no joking matter. You have to take extra care of your body.'

The matron cast several spells on the slight witch who waited patiently with the blank expression James liked to complain about.

'Now, anything bothers you?' The girl's face must have shown a flash of uncertainty. 'Out with it then,' Madam implored softly.

Remus peeped at the witches, growing more restless with every quiet second.

'I get… headaches… sometimes,' Mirach finally said haltingly as if the words were forced out of her one by one. 'Brief, just for a few moments.'

Matron's shoulders stiffened and she patted her braids covered by the nightcap in a nervous gesture Remus was well familiar with. 'And what is it you do when you get these episodes?' The tone of the nurse softened further.

The silence stretched so long, Remus thought Mirach was not going to reply.

'I am trying to... remember... a word… or…'

The answer was left unfinished but to Madam, it appeared to be enough.

'Alright, sit over there and we'll see.'

The girl perched on the closest bed fully moving into his line of sight. Her face was an illustration to the manual on conveying doubt and reproach.

'Now try to remember something.'

Mirach pursed the lips in a perfect imitation of McGonagall and frowned. Pomfrey cast a spell which summoned a mist around her curls. It became a pulsing crimson alarmingly fast.

'Miss Black!' the nurse exclaimed dropping the wand as well as her attempts not to disturb the quiet. 'That is...' She took off the hat and dabbed her hair. 'I don't...'

Mirach was rubbing the forehead. Remus wanted to do the same but was nervous to make any movement.

'I will contact your guardians immediately!'

Mirach's gaze snapped to matron before she slowly lifted her head. It turned the movement sinister.

'Madam?'

'We must take you to Mungo at once!' Pomfrey nodded resolutely and whirled away in her signature 'witch on a mission' fashion. Mirach stumbled after the nurse, hands flailing uncoordinatedly. She wore an alarmed expression which in the moonlight appeared manic.

'Madam!'

The curtains around his cot flapped in a gust of wind, widening the gap. Remus's palms grew sweaty, gut twisted, neck and shoulders cramped, forearms broke out in gooseflesh.

'Madam!'

The matron indulged the witch and spun, exasperated. 'There is nothing to worry about, Miss Black.'

Mirach stood with both arms half-lifted as if in a gesture of uncertain surrender. There was a white flash, and silence. The girl stared at the nurse apprehensively hands still aloft.

'Madam?'

'Miss Black, done with the potions I see. Very well!' Pomfrey chirped. 'Anything else I can help you with?' Mirach slowly shook her head.

Remus was stunned, gaping at the witch.

_She obliviated the matron._

Dismayed and confused, Remus rubbed his palms. His stomach was doing somersaults. The skin at the back of his neck was taut: a vivid image of a wolf with raised hackles jumped to the front of his mind. The glow that always surrounded Mirach waned and was gone.

_She obliviated her._

The witch stared after retreating Pomfrey and turned. Their eyes met. It sent both a shrill and a shiver down his spine. His heart stuttered uncomfortably, mouth dried.

'Are you going to erase my memory as well?' The words came unbidden, full of bitter condemnation. Mirach did not move, observing him with a blank face. It was impossible to tell what she thought. _He would've given anything to see into her mind._

'Are you going to grass?'

The question was so similar to his first interactions with James and Sirius, he nearly snorted. She couldn't have known any of that. _Or could she?_ Remus shuddered as ice filled his veins. Her gaze was indeed worthy of a Legilimens. He concentrated on the silvery curls shining in the light of the waning moon.

'No, but just...' _How could he begin to explain the sheer wrongness of her actions? _Remus cleared his throat. 'Don't do that again.' The words came out hoarse as if he was growling like an animal. _How could she have done that?_

Remus flopped back on the pillows and focused on the whiteness of the curtains partially shut around the bed. He brought hands behind his head gripping the hair at the nape of the neck. Tension stiffened his face.

'Listen. What you did was dangerous, ok? Memory charm and without a wand…'

'I did not erase it.' Mirach's melodious voice was slow and calm. It also sounded close. Remus scrambled to a sitting position, feet tangling in sheets. The witch stood at the foot of the cot, a brow raised at his antics. 'I only confused her.'

'How is that any different!?' Remus burst into a flurry of hand-waving, incredulous at the thoughtlessness of someone he perceived a symbol of virtue for two months. _Could he have been more foolish?_ 'Why would you do it in the first place!? Poppy was just trying to help!'

Mirach remained unaffected by his outburst. Remus rubbed palms squishing the desire to shake her.

'She cannot help me.' The witch examined the bandages on his chest (he hastened to tie the loosened hospital robe) and scars on the cheeks before meeting his gaze. Mirach's eyes burned like the blue flames. Dark shadows etched into her skin around them. Goosebumps broke out all over his body. 'Or you.'

Remus scowled, ambivalent feelings of disenchantment and uncalled fondness weighing heavy on his heart. Not able to watch the girl anymore, he opened the curtains completely and swung the legs to the side. The wand rested on the table close enough to grab. Something had a strong metallic scent which made him uneasy.

'I am sorry, I upset you.'

He snorted, shaking the head, staring straight ahead. _Upset didn't cut it. More like profoundly disappointed. Blacks he cared about were good at that._

'For the spell, I am not.' Remus whirled to Mirach ready to give a piece of his mind but stopped at an inhale, choking. The witch cringed, kneading her forehead, and watched him cough with apparent worry. Wheezing, Remus gestured at her nose which was bleeding profusely staining the front of her dark dress he mistook for robes in the darkness. Madam Pomfrey rushed to his side with an anti-choking potion. It came handy because Remus couldn't catch a single breath. He gasped, eyes leaking tears. The matron fussed and managed to wrestle him back into the bed, despite his weak attempts to dissuade her.

She cut all protests with a glare. 'I am certain you need more rest! Just this morning you were almost admitted to St. Mungo's!'

Baffled, Remus gaped at the nurse. Comprehension slowly dawned. By the time Pomfrey had him fed the diluted sleeping draught ('Just to help you doze off!') and snug under the covers, Mirach was well gone.

He woke to a semi-dark room. The sheets coiled tight around him. Remus tried to move and couldn't. His heart faltered and began to pound faster with every second. Panic overflowed. He felt a frightening presence approaching on the right.

A woman in a white nightgown with black hair covering her face floated towards him. Remus snarled. His fear faded, morphing into anger. The apparition moved closer. Remus sensed its rising agitation. There was something huge and menacing standing at the foot of his bed. He couldn't move. Panic seized him again. The woman kneeled on the floor next to the cot. Her head was shaking from side to side, the movement so fast it blurred.

Remus opened his eyes to the semi-dark Hospital Wing facing the spot where the outline of the apparition slowly faded into the thin air. Heart thumping, he sat up and opened the curtains. Shouting overwhelmed him at once. Sweet but foul faint odour permeated the air. Remus gaped at the chaos around.

Pomfrey was grappling for her wand with a curly olive-skinned girl.

'It was her fault!' the student screamed, frenzied. 'It was all her fault!'

Another girl with short blond locks was clawing at her hands and cheeks frantically, crying and moaning. Her expression was an exaggerated mask of terror. She shrieked, scratching furiously behind the ears as if in an attempt to dislodge invisible insects in her hair. 'It's under my skin, under the skin!'

The third girl with two half-undone braids was scrambling on all fours muttering continuously, 'Where is it?'

At the door a small crowd of sleepy students gathered, all in their pyjamas, some wearing sloppily hanging robes on top.

Madam Pomfrey was panting. 'Miss! Give it back!' She kicked the violent girl in the shin and successfully reclaimed her wand.

'Petrificus totalus!' the nurse cried when the witch lunged with an enraged scream. She dropped on the floor face first, stiff as a board. The matron levitated her to the nearest cot and turned around to the blond who managed to draw blood by the frenzied scratching. After a moment of hesitation, Pomfrey petrified the girl and situated her to bed as well. The third witch was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room drawing breaths from nothing in her fingers as if in a pretence of smoking. The nurse studied her with pursed lips and repeated the same process.

'What are you standing there for?' Pomfrey's voice cut the sudden silence as she snapped at the crowd. Many students started. Remus jerked so badly he nearly fell off the bed. 'Anyone called the professors?'

'Madam Sprout is in their dorm investigating,' said Logan Dunbar, Hufflepuff six-year prefect. Remus did a double-take. He never expected to see the always neat bloke so bedraggled.

'Abbott went to notify the Headmaster,' said another student.

'Very well, now out!'

Pomfrey hurried to the three petrified girls and with a wave of wand conjured a screen around them, hiding everything. The pupils grumbled and whispered, filing out. Remus thought he heard someone murmur 'black,' but couldn't be certain.

Curiosity and unease babbling, he lay back not bothering with the curtains anymore. Pomfrey did not dismiss him yet, and probably, she was going to be too busy for that. _Should he leave? Those students already saw him anyway._ _And what in Merlin's name happened?_ While he battled with himself, the Hospital Wing brightened and was soon washed in the first rays of dawn. Remus yawned and stretched, settling to wait.

After a few moments, which he spent straining the ears to distinguish any noise from behind the screen, Headmaster Dumbledore entered. He wore a long yellow robe with purple half-moons. Professors McGonagall and Sprout, both in their teacher robes and with dishevelled hair, came in right after him. The Head of Hufflepuff was levitating some weird mass in a sphere in front of her. They paid no attention to Remus and went straight to the screen.

Dumbledore tapped the surface with the wand. In a moment, Pomfrey moved it aside and stepped out.

'Albus,' the nurse said, breathless. She was rumpled and perspiring but had a satisfied mien. 'The girls will be just fine by dinner.' She patted her hair which was in complete disarray. 'Heavily poisoned. Saved by the timely admission. In another hour the chances of death would have been close to one-hundred per cent.'

Pomfrey's statement rendered everyone mute. Dumbledore's expression was thunderous. The ambience grew oppressive. Remus struggled to breathe, imagining witnessing such a sad end for the three young witches.

'You are a treasure, Poppy,' the old wizard said with a sombre smile. While the matron blushed, he pointed the wand at the sphere and it floated closer to the nurse. 'This was found in the room on the fourth bed.' The blob was slowly revolving. The professors and the nurse formed a circle, contemplating the evidence.

'That is how the aftermath of a dungbomb looks like,' said McClaggan as soon as he burst in. After him trailed Slughorn and Imamu.

Sprout shook her head, perplexed. 'The filling was changed.' Next to the Herbology professor, McGonagall stood pale and fierce, clenching the wand. Remus had never seen his Head of the House so agitated.

'What an idea!' the Slytherin exclaimed excitedly.

'To highly toxic fumes, Horace! And it almost drove insane the entire Hufflepuff! Had the older students not thought of vanishing the smoke, more children would have been hurt!'

Sprout was panting, cheeks blooming angry red. Slughorn lost all colours and stumbled back, almost colliding with professor Imamu.

'What toxin was it?' said McClaggan, scrutinising the blob. There was a brief pause.

Sprout looked devastated. 'Moonflower.'

Everyone faced her. Professors and Remus waited for further explanations. Pomfrey and Slughorn wore calculating expressions.

Sprout covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes were red but dry. 'All three girls were having vivid hallucinations. The students said the fumes smelled sweet but rank.'

'Pomona, have you, perhaps, saved another sample?' Dumbledore' tone was gentle.

She shook her head. 'Only this, Headmaster.'

'Very well,' the old wizard said, patting his beard. 'I shall investigate it closely in my office. Pomona and Horace, will you be willing to join me?' Both professors nodded.

'Whose bed it was found on?' asked Pomfrey. McGonagall made a small noise at the back of her throat.

Sprout rubbed the brows tiredly. 'Students said it was Miss Black's.'

What the teachers discussed next became white noise for Remus. He froze in the onslaught of disbelief and disgust. _Did she plan for this to happen? Was that why she came in so early? What the fuck was going on?_

'-Lupin will be kind enough to be our messenger.' Remus jerked. All the professors were staring at him. Cheeks and ears going in flames, he cleared his throat.

'Pardon me?'

McClaggan snorted. Dumbledore appeared to be stuck between solemn and amused.

'Would you mind fetching Miss Black to my office, Mister Lupin?'

Remus was about to agree.

'Headmaster, please,' Sprout said, wringing her hands, face scrunched up in worry. 'I would really like to speak to her. Fifth-year Hufflepuffs have Herbology as the first period. But if I could see the girl before the class. I want to hear what she has to say before... before…'

Dumbledore nodded. The blob rose with a wave of the wand and floated in front of him. 'We shall wait in your office together. Thank you, Mister Lupin,' he said on the way out. The other professors followed.

Sprout raised the brows, watching him with a straining smile. 'Will you please forward Miss Black to me if you meet her, Remus?'

He agreed without paying much attention to the question. The racing thoughts about Mirach became a disjointed mess of random half-formed words. Pomfrey scanned his body several times and dismissed him. Tempus revealed it was just after eight. It was too early for any of this. Fatigue poisoned the marrow of his bones, dragging the limbs down. Remus mindlessly turned the corners, mulling over the morning events.

_The potions were understandable, even if Mirach's timing was not. Did she always visit the nurse before breakfast? _

_How had he missed her last month? _

_What was the deal with the red glow on the screening charm? That level of pain was supposed to be unbearable. _

_And confunding Pomfrey's memories?_

_Was he confunded as well?_

Remus tugged at his robes. His hand dove in the pocket and clenched his wand. The spark that raced up the arm at the contact calmed him significantly.

_How was he to trust anything anymore? Every bit of evidence pointed to her. It was rational to assume the unthinkable. _Remus swallowed against the lump in his throat, feeling queasy.

Mirach was a painfully obvious choice of a suspect. She shared the dorm with the three witches. All of whom were poisoned while she was busy drinking potions and confunding the nurse at an ungodly hour. Above all, rumours carried that the witch was unsocial, haughty and, the worst, prejudiced. Remus tried to remember each time he watched Mirach.

No longer hindered by the glow, his memories were of her sitting alone at the Great Hall, or in the furthest corner of the library where no one ever studied, or on the bench in the schoolyard, or anywhere else. The witch was friendless. And indeed, she ambled around the school in a seemingly lofty manner. _Was she bigoted as well? _Remus squeezed the wand until the cypress wood painfully cut into the palm. _Was the whole speech that had him so smitten just a pretence?_ Remus stopped abruptly and clawed at his hair in extreme frustration. _Nothing made bloody sense!_

'Woah there!'

He turned to amused stares of Evans and McKinnon. The witches exchanged glances.

'What's with the dramatic hair-ripping?' said Marlene.

Remus shrugged and smiled. By the alarmed look on their faces, it must not have been a pretty sight.

A bunch of fifth-year Hufflepuffs went by towards the Hall. Each was speaking over the other and waving hands in agitation.

'-the whole bloody house!'

'-she is so getting expelled for this stunt!'

'-the nerve!'

'-can't stand the whole lot of them!'

The usually sunny Hufflepuffs barrelled through the stream of kids, not stopping their rant for a moment.

Lily and Marlene were flabbergasted, as well as many students around. Everyone started whispering excitedly to each other, obviously hungry for a juicy piece of morning gossip. Remus flushed as if the whole thing was about him. _How would they react after learning what a monster he was?_

'What the bloody buggering…'

'Marlene! Watch the language!' Lily snapped as they moved ahead.

Remus stood in the middle of the flow, breathing shallowly and clenching the fists. He could not go inside the Hall and face anything there. _What was she thinking? Why would she do it?_ _She was supposed to be the one hiding from the dark that dwelled in the closets, not the beast herself!_ Unseeing, Remus spun and slammed into someone. He apologised, not lifting the head, and rushed towards the Gryffindor Tower, paying no heed to the somnambular students proceeding down for breakfast.

Sirius was sleeping blissfully on top of the blankets, limbs artfully akimbo. Peter's bed was a burrow in a mountain of fabric, half of which was James's clothes and sheets. In the bathroom, the shower was running. Remus felt resentment rise towards his mates, who enjoyed a perfect relaxed morning. The door behind him opened with a bang.

'Hot damn!' shouted Davey Gudgeon, panting in exaltation. 'Hufflepuff's Black has finally lost it and tried to poison her roommates!'

Sirius woke with a jerk.

'Cachau bant!' Remus yelled. The hot-headed fifth-year gaped at him but had enough sense to leave.

'What that was about, Moony?' Prongs stood by the door to the bathroom, wearing only a towel, dripping water all over the floor.

Having no desire to talk, Remus strode to the side table next to James's bed and snatched the map. Mirach was in one of her favourite locations - the inner yard, surrounded by several students. He noted Catchlove, Cresswell and Peakes among the names, guessing that her own housemates found the witch first.

'What is she doing?' Sirius's hoarse voice startled Remus. Prongs and Padfoot flanked him, watching the map. He dropped it on the mattress and moved away.

'Moony?' James said, worried.

Never more in life, Remus wanted to be in the cellar where his parents hid him for the moons than in that very moment. Sirius grabbed his hands and wrestled them away from his face.

'What's going on?' His mate had grey eyes. Yet, they reminded him of the flaming blue ones as well as of dark brown glistering in contempt and fear. Remus pushed Sirius away.

White-hot anger flooded him as he struggled to breathe. James stared flummoxed. _What was he bloody looking at?_ Padfoot grew quiet, demeanour turning hostile. _Did Sirius have any right to get upset?_

_Could this day give him a fucking break?_

'Tell me what the fuck is going on,' Sirius said, glowering. Remus's proverbial hackles rose. All he could do to stop from lunging forward was stare his mate down. But Padfoot was a brash arsehole who never backed from the challenge. Instead, Sirius stood taller and stepped forward. 'Tell me!'

Remus lost it.

Moony barely came back to himself, sitting on top of Sirius who struggled to keep the clawed hands away from his neck. James was frantically tugging his robes and hair. Remus relaxed and let Prongs yank him off of Sirius. _What had he done?_ The thought looped in his mind as he watched the stone ceiling above. There were no faces or shapes on its surface.

'I'm so sorry.'

His eyes grew hot, vision blurred, but Remus didn't let the tears fall. _He didn't deserve any relief._ After a while, James settled next to him. Sirius joined on the other side. Their quiet forgiveness and acceptance were so soothing it was painful. _He didn't deserve any friends either. _Silence calmed him even as the guilt and shame overflowed. Desire to please and compensate for the outburst bloomed rapidly.

'It's about Mirach.' Both Sirius and James sat up. 'This morning her three roommates were poisoned, while she wasn't in the room. The teachers and the whole school think the obvious.' Remus hurried through the words, looking straight above.

Sirius scrambled up and started dressing, waving the wand around to quicken the process. James did the same.

'And you, Moony, were quick to believe the worst, yeah?' Padfoot said. The bitterness in his voice made him wince.

Nothing Remus could say would have negated the truth that he indeed assumed the worst. Because anything good in his life would come to the end. Just like his childhood friendship with a boy who may or may not have died because of him. Just like his secret-keeping after a near murder of a fellow student. Just like his career in Hogwarts which would come to finish without any real possibility to find work being what he was. The monsters didn't deserve happy endings. There was no good fortune for the outsiders, no relief in the light for those who should live in the darkness.

James's serious face appeared above him. 'Get your arse up, Moony.'

He wanted to stay on the cold stone and watch the ceiling forever. Sirius forced him to stand.

'Cut the pity fest bullshite, Remus,' Padfoot said. His gaze was hard but understanding. The sparse stubble made him look shaggy and much less intense. 'Now's not the time.'

Remus nodded. _Now was better suited for taking a nap._

James lightly slapped his cheek. 'I know these bleeding outbursts make you sleepy and you're tired after the moon, but we need you right now.'

Everything shivered as Prongs shook him. A sharp sting in his hand brought the room back into focus.

Sirius smirked, brow raised. His eyes were not laughing, however. 'No hard feelings?' The question held more meanings than his life. Rubbing the pulsing hand, Remus tried for a smile. He already felt significantly better surrounded by friends.

'No hard feelings, mate. But only if you shave that bum fluff off.'

Sirius guffawed, and they were good again.

Remus briefed them on everything he learned, skipping over the part where Mirach confunded the nurse. It felt wrong to bring up: her decision struck some deeply personal cord within him. Making someone forget by bewitching their memories was different from obliviate and potentially less dangerous. Surely, she would have never used it if there was a risk to Pomfrey. Remus planned to research that spell. Of course, he wasn't going to use the charm. It was purely for academic interest. Or for a hypothetical unrealistic situation when someone decided to stalk him and his friends and threaten to expose his furry little problem.

James scanned the map as they left the Tower. Mirach was with the Herbology professor in one of the Greenhouses where Sprout's office must have been.

Remus frowned. 'Check for Headmaster Dumbledore.'

Prongs opened the section of the Headmaster Tower. 'Huh. He's with lots of wizards.' He peered closer at the parchment. 'And Andromeda.'

Sirius snatched the paper. 'Prewetts must be Molly Weasley's brothers. Both are trained aurors.' He tossed the map back to James who sent him a withering glare. 'I bet they are going to come down. Let's try and intersect them'.

'Don't see the point, mate,' said Prongs. 'If they're coming for Mirach we shall just go to her.'

Sirius grinned, clapping his mate on the back. 'And we can find out what Sprout has to say!' James stumbled forward from the force. Scowling, he pushed back.

They proceeded to the Greenhouses, shoving each other. Remus trailed slightly behind with a sigh. _If his friends were idiots was he one as well? He surely felt foolish in the light of everything that happened so far. A judgemental monster and an idiot on top of everything._

Unsurprisingly, the door to the office was open. There was a rumour Sprout didn't believe in locks or privacy charms. The conversation was either impossible to hear or already finished. Even Remus heard nothing. Another reason could have been an entirety of the fifth-year Hufflepuffs who gathered at the entrance obstructing his hearing.

The students parted when Dumbledore approached. Ginger twins followed step for a step like bodyguards. Next stalked a frowning olive-skinned man in Ministry robes. The last marched pale Andromeda, demeanour haughty and calm which she pulled off despite wearing pink fluffy slippers. She saw Sirius and shook her head. Padfoot clenched his jaws. After a few words from the Headmaster ('First half of professor Sprout's lesson will be a self-study in the greenhouse.') and an expectant stare, the crowd all but disappeared. The procession entered but before the door clicked shut Sirius darted forward and managed to keep it barely open. They settled to eavesdrop.

'Pomona, thank you for waiting,' said Dumbledore.

'Yes, yes, of course, Albus. Thank _you_! I believe, Miss Black-'

A gruff voice rudely interrupted Sprout's nervous chatter. 'Is she the one who poisoned my daughter? What are you waiting for? Grab her and bring before the Wizengamot!'

Sirius's knuckles popped. He exhaled through the nose. James run fingers through the hair. Remus's gut twisted in anxiety.

'Now, Mister Wynne, we are not here to make any hasty decisions-'

'With all due respect, Dumbledore, my girl could have _died_ because of that _scum_-'

'How dare you!' Andromeda cried in outrage. Sirius drew the wand and was about to charge. Remus and James barely managed to hold him back.

The father-wizard was shouting. 'How dare _you_! You think just because you're a Black, anything goes? That you can poison and murder in the open sight? That you can drive people insane? And you, little monster-'

The speech was cut by a noisy scuffle. Sirius wrestled free and darted inside. Remus and Prongs hurried after him.

One of the twins had the father tied by a rope. The other levelled the wand at Andromeda who looked ready to kill. Padfoot stalked to his cousin and assumed a defence position. Prongs flanked him. Remus stood by the entrance, feeling like a complete idiot; doubly so, when Dumbledore, Sprout and Mirach turned to him after assessing Sirius and James. His face was hotter than after a day under the sun but Remus refused to avert the gaze from Mirach's. The dark circles around her eyes were almost purple. A bit of blood dried in one nostril.

The time might've stopped for him but the conversations were flowing.

'-guard dogs, Black,' one of the twins said nastily, aiming at Andromeda. Sirius raised his wand. James scrutinised the auror, copying the movement. All the while the restrained man complained about his rights in between of cursing the Blacks as a whole and Mirach in particular.

'That's enough,' said Dumbledore in a quiet voice. The words must have had magic behind them. Remus felt compelled to relax and put the wand away. Others visibly calmed as well. Only Sirius remained hostile.

'Misters Potter, Lupin and Black, I would like you to leave.' The Headmaster's tone brooked no argument. Remus barely restrained the urge to scatter as fast as he could. James shook his head as if ridding of an annoying thought. Padfoot stood taller and glared at the wizard defiantly.

'I'm a family member, and I'm not leaving.'

Andromeda tried to appease him. 'Sirius…'

'No! I and my mates will stay and watch Mirach proven innocent! And then this _arsehole_,' he said, pointing the wand at the olive-skinned wizard (The twins drew their wands as one), 'will apologise.'

'You bratty-'

Whatever the man had to say was cut off by a violent gust of wind that choked everyone to silence. Sprout crouched to pick up her fallen hat.

Dumbledore turned to Mirach. 'You shall decide, Miss.' His eyes were unsmiling and dull, pale blue of a frozen window on a winter chilly day.

The witch looked around, her gaze stopping on the sneering wizard in the Ministry robes. 'What is required of me?' she said, staring at the man, clearly making him uncomfortable. One of the gingers smirked, amused. The other twin gave her slim form a once-over, unimpressed. James wore a constipated expression, watching him. Sirius glowered.

Dumbledore took out a small bottle from the pocket of his robes. 'A statement under the effects of veritaserum.'

'No! _No,_' Andromeda said, instantly at Mirach's side, cutting between her and the old wizard.

Dumbledore watched on calmly. Mirach kept with the scrutiny of the father.

'What is included in the procedure?' the grey-haired witch drawled, moving her regard to the twins. After a moment, her hand slowly went up to rub the forehead.

'You will consume the potion and will be asked a series of questions all under the spell Legilimens, which shall guarantee no truth concealment or evasion.'

Andromeda scowled at the Headmaster. She turned and caressed the silver curls of her sister. 'Miri, listen to me, please. You do _not_ have to give that kind of statement. Especially, with so many people in the room.'

Mirach looked back at her as if silently communicating. Remus shivered at the possibilities of anyone being able to see into other's minds.

'Who will perform the spell?' Mirach said. Andromeda uncharacteristically threw her hands in the air with a huff.

'As a Chief Warlock, I will.'

For the briefest moment, Remus saw an expression of absolute terror on her face. It was gone in a blink, but despite the outer demeanour of calmness, her breathing quickened. He tugged at the collar of his robes to get some air.

'I agree.' Mirach turned to the olive-skinned wizard. 'I did not poison anyone.'

The man gulped and stepped back. The twins exchanged glances and simultaneously sniggered. Sirius sneered. James stifled a yawn.

Andromeda spoke quietly to Mirach about the choice to refuse while the witch settled into the chair opposite Dumbledore. Both aurors stood backing the Headmaster, the Ministry man inspected his shoes by their side. Remus settled to the left of Sirius and James - to the right behind Mirach's chair.

Sprout counted three drops of veritaserum into the girl's mouth. Dumbledore cast legilimens. He was quiet for a few moments, frowning.

'What is your full name?'

There was a long pause. Dumbledore's brows lifted in mild surprise.

'Mirach Agena Black.'

'Why didn't she reply right away?' demanded the worried father.

The Headmaster waved the question away, not breaking the contact with the witch.

'How old are you?'

The question was followed by another long pause. The old wizard's eyes twinkled.

'Fifteen.'

Remus had never seen how the truth serum worked but judging from the dumbfounded faces of the twins, something was different from the norm.

'Who poisoned your roommates?'

'I d'n't kn'w.' The reply was fast, words slurred.

Dumbledore leaned forward, squinting.

'Is today Monday, November the 8th?'

'Yes.'

At another instant answer, Dumbledore's eyes positively sparkled.

'Who put the poison bomb in your bed?'

'I d'n't kn'w.'

Remus couldn't shake the feeling that the wizard was not truly interested in the statement any longer.

'What year were you born?'

This time a pause stretched the longest. Dumbledore wore a suddenly hungry expression, which made Remus extremely uneasy. James stared as if he never saw the Headmaster before. Sirius frowned and stepped closer to his cousins.

'19… 61.'

_Why would she hesitate about personal questions like that?_

'Were you the one who put the bomb in your bed for any given reason?'

'No.'

Dumbledore beamed, leaning closer to the girl. There were barely two inches between their faces.

'Who is Hermione?'

Mirach choked on a gasp. Her fingers clawed at the robes at her thighs. She gulped air as if suffocating.

Andromeda grabbed one of her forearms, worried. 'What hurts, Miri?'

'A m'ggle-b'rn witch.'

Headmaster raised the wand to Mirach's temple.

'Did you ask someone to put the bomb in your bed directly or indirectly?'

'No.'

The old wizard tapped the wand at her forehead. The witch froze in place, serene.

'Is Harry Hermione's friend?'

'Yes,' Mirach said in a daze.

'Did you poison or arranged to poison Charlotte Rice, Ethmer Cornwell and Delia Wynne?'

'No.'

'That is enough-'

Dumbledore cut Andromeda off with the next question.

'Where can I find Hermione?'

Mirach whimpered. A red drop trailed from one nostril.

'Enough!' Andromeda shouted, wiping the blood and hugging her sister, who placidly stared into the Headmaster's eyes. Remus had no idea what to do. Sirius and James were both no less confused.

'Hermione died under the rubble.'

'When did she die?'

The Prewett twins watched, alarmed. The olive-skinned wizard was ashen and glancing around in an obvious desire to be anywhere else. Mirach's nose and ears bled profusely.

'Stop it! Stop!' Andromeda screeched, outright hysterical, shoving Dumbledore away from her sister. The wizard didn't budge.

'Sunday, May 2nd.'

It was getting difficult to breathe. Remus pulled at the robes. James took his off altogether, parting the collar of his fine linen under-shirt. Sirius stood in defence position, blinking rapidly. The twins drew their wands as well. The Ministry man darted to the door. Unsmiling Sprout halted his escape.

Dumbledore and Mirach were stuck in each other's gaze while Andromeda futilely tried to stop the interrogation. The pressure rose higher. Remus clutched at his head. His brain swelled as if ready to explode. The eyes were being pushed out of the sockets. A high pitched buzz was maddening for everyone but the two.

'1999,' Mirach said or she didn't, because Remus could not tell up from down. Or if he was dreaming or truly experiencing the weightless sensation. With a thundering snap the glass in the entire Greenhouse shattered and he fell.

Remus groaned moving gingerly, noting in surprise how nothing hurt. Next to him Padfoot and Prongs grunted, sitting up.

'No! Get off of her! Get _away_!' Andromeda's voice was full of panic and desperation.

Remus shifted, turning to the side.

Mirach lay pale and still in front of the kneeling Dumbledore. He held the wand above her unmoving form. Andromeda scrambled to her and pushed the wizard away. She was openly crying.

'Miss Black will be alright, Madam Tonks,' Headmaster said, dusting the robes. He rose and waved the wand. All broken shards were repaired instantly.

'It was out of the line, Dumbledore! You _knew_ the risks and still did this!' Andromeda's tone boded nothing good. Next to Remus, Sirius shivered and shakily stood up.

'I assure you,' the Headmaster said. 'I have not intended to harm! Your sister's mind is magnificent and I may have lost myself for a moment. Please accept my apologies.' It was strange to see the old wizard so ashamed and contrite.

Andromeda sneered, not replying. She rose and levitated Mirach away. Sirius and James followed. Prongs was glancing back at the Headmaster every few moments in disbelieve. Dumbledore sighed, facing the father who gaped at the empty space next to the bewildered twins and smug Sprout.

'I believe you have your statement, Mister Wynne.'

The man was nodding dazedly as Remus left after his mates.

They took Mirach to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey nearly jumped out of her skirts, rushing to the witch. Sirius and Andromeda murmured encouragements to each other. James wore a flabbergasted expression as if someone hit him over the head with the Giant Squid's tentacle. Remus did not know what to make of anything that happened. Relief that Mirach's name was cleared dimmed under the pressure of confusion. _What was the meaning of those pauses in her replies? And before the explosion did she say 1999?_ Remus shook his head, tired to the bones. The day was going to drive him insane.

A long while later, which from what the clock chimed was only ten minutes but to him felt like forever, the nurse finally emerged from behind Mirach's privacy screen.

'Miss Black shall be back to normal by tonight.' Andromeda burst into tears and threw herself in Sirius's embrace. The matron patted her back. After the brown-haired witch calmed, she continued. 'However, she has shown signs of the prolonged moonflower poisoning and I would like to keep her in for a couple of days.'

_What did that mean? _Remus was completely and irrevocably lost.

'What do you mean prolonged poisoning?' demanded Sirius.

The matron put her hands on the hips. 'That is no tone to take with me, young man!'

Sirius glared but apologised. The nurse heaved a sigh.

'I mean precisely what I say. Miss Black has a residue of extensive exposure to datura. Now, I don't presume to know the circumstances, but it is no small issue especially if the girl never came in contact with the herb knowingly.'

Andromeda wrung her fingers. Pomfrey hurried to appease the witch. 'Not to worry, the dosage was obviously small for any lasting effects.'

_If Mirach didn't poison her roommates. Who did? _

_And who was poisoning her?_

At a quarter past ten, Headmaster showed, followed by all Heads of Houses. Remus, Sirius and James were dismissed to their classes after Dumbledore gave a formal apology to all parties that were present at the Greenhouse. Andromeda did not look impressed in the least. Her face remained inscrutable both during and after the speech.

The potions were chaos. Students could not stop whispering. Peter, fresh from Divination, was already fully informed by the rumours. By lunch, the wildest theories circulated all around the school: of Mirach trying to commit suicide, of her duelling the Headmaster, of her getting cursed in revenge by Wynne's father and many more absurd scenarios. Remus rolled his eyes so much, they hurt. Sirius was in a foul mood, brooding and quiet. James didn't speak either. When their housemates including Pete asked for the hundredth time if one or another fantasy was true, Sirius jumped up with a murderous expression. Remus and James had to restrain glowering Padfoot but at least it was an effective warning for everyone.

Halfway through the lunch, Headmaster appeared. In the immediate silence, he strolled to the area in front of the professor's table, where the sorting was held.

'Dear all!' he said, drawing attention. 'This morning three students were admitted to the Hospital Wing with moonflower poisoning.' The racket started at once but died out with a calm hand gesture from Dumbledore. 'They will be fine.'

Whispers carried, 'Black,' all around the Hall. Despite knowing that Mirach was not at fault, Remus swallowed against the lump in his throat. Anxiety twisted his gut.

Headmaster continued. 'Also known as datura, and devil's trumpet, the moonflower is an ingredient recently added to the list of illegal. It causes dryness of the mouth, dizziness and double vision, provokes violent behaviour, nightmares as well as hallucinations affecting all senses. The signature effect is a so-called 'phantom cigarettes.'

Remus exchanged looks with James. They both turned to Sirius who was pale except for two red spots on his high cheeks. Padfoot did smoke nothing in his fingers sometimes and behaved strangely. Remus never gave it much thought. His mate always was eccentric.

'Madam Sprout will devote time to briefing the students of all years about the dangers of datura poisoning.'

The Head Boy Niall Abbott lifted the hand. Dumbledore nodded.

'Was the culprit caught and apprehended, Headmaster?'

The noise started anew for a moment until the wizard replied.

'It remains unknown who did it.'

A commotion began, many shouted. 'It was Black!' Some even pointed fingers at Sirius and Regulus. Remus and James struggled to pacify Padfoot.

Dumbledore waited patiently for the ruckus to end.

'Miss Mirach Black was as much a victim as her roommates.'

His statement was met with a brief silence. Few hands flew up. Dumbledore picked the six-year Ravenclaw prefect Bobine Pascal.

'How did you confirm this, Headmaster?'

'Miss Black gave a statement under the influence of veritaserum in the presence of trained aurors and a ministry official.'

Murmurs broke out.

'She's a Black, they know all kind of dark stuff to fool the potion!' shouted a Hufflepuff from the farthest end from Dumbledore. Students around the dark-haired boy hummed in agreement.

Sirius threw Remus off and was up pointing the wand in the direction of the speaker. At the Slytherin table, Regulus stood ready to pounce.

'I assure you, Mister Peakes, and anyone else, that Miss Black had spoken the truth. I vouch for her if that means anything to you.'

In the stunned silence, a chair screeched as its legs dragged on the stone floor. Professor Sprout rose, chin high up, staring hard at her House table. 'I vouch for Mirach as well!'

Nothing much could have beaten that and the discussion died. Students finished with lunch and went to classes. The buzz surrounding the mystery calmed to the background noise. Everyone was too spoiled by the everyday ghastly news of The Prophet as well as by the rising hype of the upcoming Opening Quidditch Match. Most concluded that someone's prank went awry. Few even stared at Remus and his mates as they went about their business with calculating and fearful expressions. After all, the Marauders were the first to point finger at when it came to pranks.

By dinner, the three witches were back, huddled and protected by their housemates at the Hufflepuff table. Jordan went to sit with his girlfriend who, Remus remembered, was wrestling with Pomfrey during her psychotic episode. Sirius and James left to see Mirach. Tired, he refused, choosing to stay in the slowly emptying Great Hall. The ceiling was magnificent for contemplating mysteries and on a cloudy evening for naming the wispy masses after their forms.

'Moony, I'm gonna head to the dorm.'

He waved Wormtail off, feeling relaxed for the first time this tedious day.

Mirach was even more bewitching to him now. She was not a criminal. Dumbledore found her mind fascinating. Sirius let no evil be spoken about her and James followed in Padfoot's footsteps.

_How he wished to look into her mind! Someone tried to stifle it with a drug. Yet, she persevered! _

_Maybe, she also awoke early to contemplate the burning eyes dwelling in the darkness. He was the real monster. Mirach didn't turn away once. _

_It was no pretence. She was the light._

Next he saw the witch, she was glowing again.


	6. Prejudice

6.

_Green haunts me,_

_The colour that brings death._

_This shade is poles apart_

_Its vibrancy is something else,_

_Or someone else._

_But who?_

_I couldn't tell._

**Friday, November 19, 1976, 4:58pm**

'…saddening to have such a small class of NEWT students. You must use this opportunity to learn to respect each other regardless of the house affiliation like the young adults you all are. Some even legally. The lines…'

Lily couldn't help glancing at Black few desks behind. Last year he bragged about his coming of age in November to every ear that would listen. Surprisingly, at professor's comment, Sirius didn't smirk or flaunt his vanity but ignored the lecture altogether. Lily could relate. For the last few minutes, she contemplated the delayed letter from her parents and Christmas shopping while discreetly packing.

The trip to Portsmouth was all her dad could talk about since the Tangerine Dream's gig. It was a pity she couldn't join them. Petunia's gap year allowed her more freedom.

_They might have bought presents there. Tuney, probably, got hideous her pottery. _Lily's hand rose to fiddle with the earlobe. _Not once her sister gifted something nice or even a card. This year, she'd return the favour. _She nodded, fingers twisting her earring _again_, and met Potter's eyes.

The idiot sat next to Black wearing his glasses upside down like in every class this week, no doubt as some sort of foolish joke. The wizard winked, grinning cockily. Lily turned away with a huff, slamming the offending limb on the desk. _Potter never learnt._

_A joke, indeed. Such a cute smile wasted on a toerag._

'The break will be ten minutes,' professor said. Students in the back cheered, which got them a glare. 'I expect you in the next classroom, wands at the ready.'

Lily started, having missed the instructions for the practical part amidst the parental lecture professor McClaggan was prone to give and turned to Marlene. The witch slept with her eyes open.

Lily hissed. 'Marley!'

Marlene was driving her bonkers – the girl's academic enthusiasm was solely expressed in History. Yet, she never received less than Exceed Expectations in any subject despite her lacklustre attitude, while Lily took extensive notes in every class.

The brunette blinked and yawned jaw-poppingly wide. She blew the bangs out of her eyes and stretched.

'Did he shut up, finally?'

Lily sighed to the heavens, the usual mix of fondness and exasperation blossoming in her gut._ How will she survive in a big world with such a poor filter? _The annoyance won when the witch grabbed her favourite quill. _Again_.

Lily lunged. 'That's mine!'

Marlene laughed, holding the feather just out of reach with one hand, pushing her away with the other.

'You're sure?' She waved it and stood up, making Lily lose her balance and collapse on the bench. Marlene guffawed.

'Accio quill!' familiar voice said. _It was a deeply infuriating, frustratingly deep and irritatingly nice rumble_.

Willing the cheeks to cool down _at once_, Lily fixed her hat and the twisted robes. She hoped her glare burned the stinky smirk off of Marlene's face. _Why were they friends?_

'There you go, Evans.' Potter held out the quill - tall with the ridiculous glasses upside down and the hat slanted. Lily swallowed the automatic thanks and snatched the feather away, whirling on the spot. Marlene's ponytail swayed, as she disappeared into the hall.

_What an arse._

Before Potter could spout nonsense, Lily grabbed the bag and dashed to the exit, passing giggling Mary and Dorcas. She sent her best dirty look, which only made the girls laugh harder. _They were absolute devil's daughters._

Lily joined Marlene, who was at the door of their duelling room checking the list of partners next to the duo of Ravenclaws.

Marlene pouted. 'Fuck me dead, I'm with Talkalo-o-ot.'

Lily smacked the witch's shoulder, looking for her own name. She was in fourth place with Bobine Pascal.

'Moony, mate, you're first again!' Potter shouted from amidst the gathered small crowd of six-years.

'Woah, Doherty and Lupin should just go out already,' Darcy Kellaway said. Predictably, Potter and Black jumped into a rant match with the arrogant Ravenclaw. Lily ignored them, studying the pairs.

First went Remus Lupin and Aoife Doherty from Slytherin. The witch's wandwork was as mean as her stink eyes, despite the break she took from school in the third year. Lupin had a gift for Defence but was too etiquette-abiding, which would've been a disadvantage in a real fight against the dark wizards. _As if that was going to happen._

Next was the pair of Potter and Black. The toerags were as talented as they were obnoxious. The professor's decision to put them together was lost on her: the boys fought against each other in a rather carefree way, which in her opinion wasn't the best strategy for improvement.

The third place took Severus and his Death Eater wannabe friend Rosier. Admittedly, her former friend was talented at the subject if motivated by a hideous agenda. _It was of no matter. For all she cared, Snape could've already been a Death Eater. _

Her fingers twisted the earring in a particularly painful angle, but Lily hardly noticed.

_How did Sev become such a hateful, churlish person, execrating her kind? Was their friendship ever even true? _

'Quit blocking the way, Miss Evans,' professor McClaggan said, startling Lily. She hurried away and stepped on somebody's shoes. Apologising, Lily turned and once again met Potter's gaze. Hand in the hair, the wizard was blushing as if they shared a romantic moment.

_Was the bloke delusional? Could he take a hint?! _

_Why did he have to be so attractive?_

'Uhhh.' She flushed in irritation, spotting smug Marlene, Mary and Dorcas behind Potter. _What was this idiotic conspiracy? _Lily spun, hoping her hair whipped him in the face and rushed inside to the farthest spot from the classroom's door.

'Alright, class! Bags and hats over there,' professor said, pointing to the right corner. 'Wands out, silliness out, brains on.'

Students used the levitation spell – Baethan Stebbins's botching and sending his heavy bag in Hugo Lovette's gut. Potter and Black threw their things from halfway across the room, Black's hat smacking Rosamund Travers in the back of the head, Potter's – Tilda Flint. Both Slytherins whirled around, indignation morphing into a poorly disguised pleasure at Black's booming guffaws. Head thrown back, hand holding the lean stomach vaguely defined through the fitted robes, the lad cut an arresting figure.

'Once more, for those with especially short attention span,' professor McClaggan said, glaring at Stebbins. 'Every student who uses the reductor curse or the vanishing spell on another will be expelled without delay. Same goes for the Dark spells. I believe mentioning Unforgivables is redundant, but I must repeat: any of those will land you in Azkaban.' He focused on Snape and Rosier. Lily averted her gaze from Severus's eager face. 'This is a practice in silent casting. I expect no sound but zaps of magic in this auditorium for the next,' - he checked his golden watch, furrowing the blond brows, - 'half an hour!?'

_What was that question?_

Marlene snorted.

'Oh, bugger! We've no time!' Professor flourished the wand jerkily. _And whose fault was that?_

The floor lined itself in twelve square sections. Students hurried to their partners. In the brief chaos, Lily searched for Pascal's dark curls. The Ravenclaw stood in the corner next to Lucinda Talkalot, and Potter and Black, discreetly ogling the latter in a rather inappropriate manner. Lily exhaled, pulling the earring, and marched towards the witch. _Was there anyone in Hogwarts not fancying Sirius Black?_

'Wands out! Bow before you start!'

Bobine unstuck her eyes from Black and bowed. Lily responded in kind and cast langlock.

'Lupin, Doherty! What'd I say? Bow first!'

Pascal blocked easily and began moving in a slow circle. Lily followed, analysing her motions. The brunette cast, judging by the turquoise colour, impedimenta. Lily dispelled it, countering with a tripping jinx. Bobine sidestepped but stumbled on the long skirt she wore underneath her robes.

_How could the pure-bloods find them comfortable?_

Black burst with his signature cackle that, judging by Pascal's blush, was at her expense. The witch lost all semblance of calm and stopped their baiting of one another, going on the offensive._ The Ravenclaw was as good at silent casting as she was at shooting bedroom eyes._

A purple flash whizzed past Lily. It dissolved upon hitting the window glass.

'Talkalot! The aim is your opponent, not Evans!' _Lucinda couldn't get someone even with their back turned._

'Expelliarmus!' screamed a student from the other end of the room.

'Pettigrew! Ten points from Gryffindor!' Professor stalked there. 'I want to hear no spells shouted, or whispered! Think them!'

Marlene jumped on the opportunity to taunt. 'Talky, ya sure you're holding your wand the right way?' Lily snorted, keeping the shield up against the barrage of Pascal's hexes.

'McKinnon, are you sure your uncle, or whatever that beast is, hadn't had a go at you on the full moon? I wouldn't be surprised with how rabid you are!'

'Talkalot, McKinnon, do shut up!' professor boomed from the other side of the room. _The wizard had an admirable hearing._

Another flash whizzed past Lily, colliding with the inside of her shield and producing blinding green sparks. Dropping protego, she barely missed two red spells and restored the barrier when Pascal showed no sign of slowing. Lily had to tire the brunette out, which was an excellent test of her defences. _If only she could manage the shield that allowed the spells to go through from her side._ It was an advanced bit of magic perfect for teamwork.

'Talky, Talky, Talky,' Marlene mocked, 'maybe you shouldn't talk shite about someone who could r-r-rip you to pieces!'

Lily jolted, catching a sharp movement from the corner of the eye.

'Well done, Doherty! Ten points to Slytherin!' Remus Lupin jumped to his feet, avoiding incarcerous.

The momentary loss of focus nearly cost Lily the duel: Pascal shattered her protego and fired a white spell. _Petrificus totalus. _Lily dodged and someone behind her went down._ Marlene!_

'Ha!' Talkalot cried. 'No one's here to shield you this time. Lying at my feet suits you, McKinnon!'

'Five points off Slytherin and another off Gryffindor! I hear you once more, ladies, and it'll be detention time!'

'Expelliarmus!' Lily screamed in her mind together with the stunning curse. Pascal evaded the scarlet flash and avoided the red, but the second disarming charm hit her square in the chest. The Ravenclaw stumbled back, as her wand flew in a perfect arc. Lily caught it gracefully, beaming in victory. _Perfection._

She spun and knocked Talkalot, who kept nudging Marlene with the foot, on her arse. With a wave of a wand, Marley was up.

'Evans, nice one,' murmured Potter few feet away, his broad back to her. He was maintaining a shield while Black sent slimy-looking spells at it. _Could magic even-?_ Potter stepped aside and the disgusting oily orange flash smacked Lily above the brows. The goo covered the entirety of her face and the front of the pressed robes she wore for the first time since buying them. Lily could hardly see or breathe.

'Fuck! Shite! I'm so sorry!'

Potter fretted, wiping the honey-smelling slime frantically and rather painfully with the sleeves of his robes. _Why not use the wand? _ He stood closer than ever: once she could blink, Lily glimpsed hazel around his blown irises, smelled the candy apples. She focused on the roaring lion-head button of his school robes, imagining a date with a handsome bloke instead of Potter scourgifying the honey _(honey?)_ off while the perpetrator cackled like a lunatic behind him.

_Which reminded her..._

Aqua eructo erupted from her wand in a stream of icy water. Black dove for the ground dramatically, and the spell splashed Doherty, who was holding two wands triumphantly above the bound Lupin, in her face.

Lily cut off the spell, mouth opening but not producing a sound. The Slytherin slashed the arm (Lily cast protego a tad too late) and was dry in an instant, steam coming off of her tall frame. The brown hair Doherty preferred sleek and straight frizzed, creating a halo of tangled locks; cheeks and lips flushed pink; perspiration stuck few baby hairs to her forehead. The look suited the witch, despite her lips being distorted in a vicious sneer and green eyes smouldering with intense hatred at Lily.

_Sorry! Why couldn't she say it?_

Lily's voice refused to cooperate. Her heart was nearly jumping out of the ribcage. She swallowed with difficulty, parched throat clicking.

Someone whistled.

'Looking hot, Doherty!' Kellaway shouted, attracting all the attention. Professor, who was reprimanding Pettigrew next to the Ravenclaw, smacked the back of the wizard's head. He checked the watch and groaned.

'I'll have you write three feet on your strategy in today's practice by the next lesson.' He dismissed everyone but Peter with a weary sigh. 'Better have had one, McKinnon!'

Lily exhaled in uneasy relief, unfreezing when Pascal took her wand back with a distracted nod. The witch drooled over Black again, who was making excessive hand gestures at Potter. Doherty hadn't moved, gaze burning bright like the jungle on fire, even as roped Lupin futilely tried to get her attention. Lily hastened to collect her bag and the hat, avoiding the Slytherin, and rushed outside.

_It was just an accident. No big deal. _

_She must have done something to deserve it anyway. _

Distracted by the mental argument, Lily barely noticed Dorcas and Mary falling into step next to her chatting about their duelling partners and the strategies, or Marlene, who lagged in a foul mood. She went up to the third floor, waving goodbyes.

'Move faster, Lotty!' A girl with short blond locks breezed past her like a gust of sweet-smelling wind. _Should she make a reprimand?_

Looking over the shoulder, Lotty paid no attention and nearly collided with Lily.

'Sorry!' she cried and bolted after the blond.

'No running in the corridors!' Lily called but the student already disappeared around the corner.

Deciding to let it slide, she continued and was soon caught in a pitifully small stream of the fifth-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Lily counted the few students, tutting at the mad cackles of a group of tree boys. All foolish jesters wore the yellow-collared robes to her surprise. A lone Gryffindor cornered a Hufflepuff girl. They spoke in hushed tones, while the witch shied away from the boy's gaze and touch.

_At least, Potter didn't attempt physical harassment._

Putting the lovers spat out of her mind, Lily prepared to knock on the door and paused, hearing the voices.

'-kind enough to allow you into the fifth year, which I must say I was thoroughly against, it does not free you of responsibility as a student to learn and perform the practical part during the lesson as you are instructed by your professor.'

A pause followed. Lily shuddered, imagining the stern stare of professor McGonagall. The scolded student remained wisely silent.

'This is a year of the O.W.L. examinations, and, as much as I regret to say it, you will be forced to move to year four, shall your practical performance continue to be non-existent.'

_Threats of downgrading were grim, coming from the Deputy Headmistress. _Lily fiddled with her earlobe. _Someone was in trouble._

'I will give you two weeks, as well as professors Flitwick and McClaggan, with whom I spoke and confirmed the very same concerns about your wandwork.'

More silence and a heavy sigh, which made Lily uneasy. It was one of her greatest fears to disappoint her Head of the House. She twisted the earring.

'My intention is only to help you, Miss Black.'

Lily cringed, letting her arm fall.

_Sirius's cousin… Blood couldn't guarantee strong magic after all. If only she could rub the faces of all pure-blood bigots in the fact._

'-afraid you do. Your performance has not improved in the slightest since we last spoke. Alas, I have asked one of my best students to tutor you to see if you can manage any progress. Speaking of which, she must be here by now.'

_Shite!_

The door opened and Lily barely managed to keep her balance, having been leaning against it. Professor McGonagall observed the wobbling spectacle with raised brows. Across from her a small girl with a head nearly full of grizzled curls lethargically turned, showing no surprise. Lily's cheeks flamed as she sputtered apologies.

'A little earwigging and…' professor McGonagall paused, eyeing her robes, 'questionable fashion choices,' - _What?_ Lily glanced down and cringed at the magic stains, blushing to the tips of her ears, - 'do not undermine the exceptional abilities of Miss Evans.'

The Deputy Headmistress faced the Hufflepuff, pursing her lips in what Lily knew to be the resolve to be as harsh as possible for the betterment of the student. This expression was only once directed at Lily in their third year. Her heart sped just from the reminiscence.

'Now!' the older woman said, oozing authority. 'You will arrange a meeting at Miss Evans's convenience for this weekend. I will make sure professor Flitwick checks on your progress on Monday and, of course, you will have to perform acceptably in my class. Do I make myself clear, Miss Black?'

The witch nodded, bland look not dissipating. Professor McGonagall sighed and fixed her glasses, patting Lily's shoulder on the way out.

'Miss Evans, simply close the door once you're finished.'

The blatant trust of the Deputy Headmistress sent Lily to the ninth cloud. Pleasure spilt in a pool of warmth inside her ribcage, spreading in tingles to the toes. The hush that enveloped the room dulled the fuzzy bliss, making her fidget. Lily refused to speak first, scrutinising the grey-haired Hufflepuff.

_Wasn't there a wizarding dye or a spell? Did she like that mess on her head?_

Black had shown no desire to tame the short grey curls, which stuck each way in admittedly adorable if messy fashion. _Probably, to her, blood was more important._ The witch wore a black robe (some kind of twigs sticking out of the collar) with no bauble or ribbon or scarf to identify the House affiliation. Lily itched to confirm the rumours about her hatred towards Hufflepuff firsthand, but it meant starting the conversation.

_Black was the one who needed help!_

'I suppose,' the girl drawled, studying the floor, 'we should forget about this.'

_Wha-? _'What?!' Lily said, incredulous.

Black slowly looked up. Her dark blue eyes were piercing, generating a strong sense of unease. 'You needn't bother with professor's request,' she said after a long moment, frowning. Her hand crept up to rub the forehead.

Lily was struck speechless. _Was the girl serious? Who did she think she was?!_

Outrage overcame her like a rage cloud. _The nerve! _'Professor McGonagall made me responsible for _tutoring_ you. And I _will_ tutor you every single day for the next two weeks as I promised!'

Black stared with an impassive expression, which made Lily's blood boil. _Was she an idiot, unfamiliar with the concept of rules? _

_Was she, perhaps, disgusted to have a muggle-born tutor? _Severus's hurtful slur replayed itself in an exquisite detail: how his eyes glittered menacingly, thin lips curled in a hideous sneer as the cold voice spit out the disgusting words.

Lily fiddled with the earlobe, floundering in the memories of the lake incident last June. 'If the purity of my blood concerns you-' Her thoughts shifted towards Doherty and the speech she rehearsed countless times after their fight in the third year. _Why did the clever response rarely come to her in the heat of the moment?_ 'Perhaps, you should look in the mirror and ask yourself, how could it be that a muggle-born witch is so much smarter and better in learning and practising magic than the pure-bloods who are supposedly naturally predisposed to it!'

Her fingers yanked the earring, making Lily snap out of it. Black was batting the lashes in a perfect imitation of cluelessness. _Was she a fool? A good actor?_

'Why wou-'

The door opened with a bang, cutting off her response and making Lily jump. Sirius Black barrelled in, jaw set. Potter followed with a hand in the hair ('Alright, Evans?').

'You're not going,' Sirius said, towering over the girl menacingly. She cocked the head like a puppy.

The small witch wasn't intimidated in the least. 'Where am I not going, Sirius?'

'Dumbledore. You are not going,' he said through the gritted teeth. The cousins indulged in a glaring match.

_Professor Dumbledore. _Potter lost interest in his friend's tantrum and kept peeping her way._ What a creep. Dinner must've been served already._

The Black girl broke the silent spell. 'Headmaster requested my presence,'

_Oh, so she did receive detention for the moonflower stunt._

'I don't give a fuck!' Sirius slashed the arm as if striking an invisible enemy with a sword, moving closer to her. Lily's gasp at the language was left ignored. 'You'll not go.'

Potter stepped forward, at once apprehensive. The air in the office grew stuffy, smelling faintly of ozone. Lily rubbed her nose, staving off a sneeze.

'I am my own person,' the Hufflepuff said slowly, peering at Potter and Lily with a guarded mien. Severus made a similar face when someone talked about his father in front of an audience of any number of people.

Sirius waved dismissively, inches away from the witch. 'They aren't going to blabber.' _For all his perception skills, he lacked necessary personal space boundaries._ The Hufflepuff didn't shy away to Lily's reluctant respect.

'You are fifteen,' he said, softening the tone, which didn't affect the stubborn stance of the girl. Lily rolled her eyes. She had watched all these scenarios play out before in Tuney's favourite romantic dramas. It was a cue time for poorly chosen words.

'How does it matt-'

'I am legally an adult and an heir to the house!' Sirius snapped, visibly refraining from shaking the girl. 'You will listen, Mirach.' _Wasn't that another star name? _'I forbid you.'

_And the drama played out just like on tele._

Mirach's countenance cleared. Lily blinked at the instant change. Memories assaulted her.

_'The glaring sign is the so-called poker face, employed when the person ought to react,' Severus sneered at the muggle term, his hair hanging like the black curtains around the sallow face._

'Heir to the house… forbids me.'

_Sev spoke of Occlumency on more than one occasion; even demonstrated. 'Clearing the mind,' he called it, facial muscles freezing in a mask of polite boredom. _

'Miri, I didn't mean to say it like that.'

_Oh, he meant it alright. _

_It made perfect sense Blacks knew Occlumency. What about Legilimency? The girl's gaze was penetrating, and the art - dark, expected of a Black to know_. Lily swallowed recalling any unsavoury comments she thought during their brief interaction.

'Sirius.' Mirach's voice was quiet and affectionate, and sweet, which startled Lily. Petunia once used to speak to her like that. 'Professor Dumbledore would never hurt me.'

'But he already did!' Black lost any control, grabbing the witch by the shoulders, though he shook her gently. Potter stopped half-step, gaping at Lily's hand clutching his.

_When did she-?_ Lily dropped it as if burnt and blushed when he peered at her, smiling reluctantly._ Potter was too handsome for such a ponce. Why did he have to behave like a twit?_

'You don't remember, do you?' Sirius said after a while, snapping Lily out of the Potter-contemplations. A guilty surprise showed on Mirach's face, the kind of a child's who got caught looting in a sweets cupboard before lunch.

'He obliviated you...' Sirius exhaled shakily and spun on the spot. _What?_ Lily stumbled back. His murderous grimace was chilling: the grey eyes sparkled maniacally, brows furrowed, lips twisted in a snarl. Potter stood taller, advancing to meet his mate's rage. 'This fucki-'

Mirach grasped Sirius's sleeve and pulled. The wizard turned to her immediately, albeit, with the same deadly look. The small girl didn't falter.

'No one obliviated me.' Her speech was unhurried, cadencing and in Lily's opinion ill-suited any situation. It screamed self-importance. But the agitated wizard calmed, sagged in front of the witch. Mirach's hand drifted to his shoulder. 'Headmaster had done a lot for me.' She silenced the retort by petting his cheek. 'We have got to respect the authority.'

Lily snorted at the irony. _Only earlier she tried to skip the tutoring arranged by the professor._ Potter wasn't amused, squinting at the grey-haired witch.

Sirius argued as expected. 'No, in this instance we don't.'

'Agree to disagree.'

'No!' He drew away from her caress. Lily jumped at the sudden snap in the mood. James tutted and exhaled through the nose. 'No disagreement or whatever fuck shit! You're not going! You owe him fuck-all. You must obey, Mirach. I forbid it!'

The witch was unmoving, hand still suspended in the air that became stifling. Her poker face was perfect, but the eyes glowed frighteningly bright. Lily swore the twigs at the collar of the girl's robes twitched. Black pointed the index finger at her cousin, whose pose changed from looming to hunching and defensive.

'Sirius Black,' Mirach pronounced his name in a manner Lily's mom usually employed to stop the fight between her and Tuney. Sirius shrank even more, stuffing fists in the pockets, but stubbornly glared with a stiff jaw. James shifted from foot to foot but didn't show any discomfort Lily felt, instead, shaking in silent laughter. _What was so funny?_

'I will do however I please.' The quiet words were accompanied by the rise in tension, like before the storm. A huge spider (Lily squeaked) leapt from under the collar on Mirach's outstretched arm and charged menacingly towards the wizard. It jumped (Lily screamed, unable to contain herself) and froze mid-air, moving its legs agitatedly.

_What the hell?!_

'That's one big-ass spider,' Potter mumbled. _Sherlock! It looked poisonous, too._ Lily swallowed, an overwhelming urge to be out of the room growing exponentially with her every rapid beat of heart.

The cousins didn't mind the agitated arachnid, having another glaring competition. It rotated in the air, unhappy. Mirach focused on the creature, nodding as if understanding the jerky leg movements. She offered the palm (Lily's arms broke in goose flesh) and brought the spider to her shoulder, where it scurried under the left side of the neckband, only three of its black shiny legs visible. They were nothing like the twigs. Lily shuddered, imagining the spider's touch on the skin.

Mirach ambled to the pair of them. Lily had to grasp Potter's arm again to halt the show of a coward's retreat. _It was just a spider._ With a stubborn yet regretful countenance Black studied the back of her fuming cousin, who glowered at the wall, and hung her head. She scrutinised them next, lingering on their linked hands (or rather on Potter's wrist held hostage), with a frown, rubbing the forehead. A drop of blood trailed from her left nostril.

Lily was paralysed by the bizarreness of the whole encounter. Potter made a noise in the back of the throat, drawing Mirach's attention, and pointed at his nose. The girl wiped the blood sloppily, smearing red on her upper lip. Uncaring, she turned to Lily.

'When shall we meet?'

Lily had no idea what the witch was asking. She certainly didn't want to meet with any Blacks in the nearest future.

'Have you changed your mind?' Mirach lifted one greying eyebrow. _What was the matter with her hair anyway? Even professor McGonagall had no salt in the intricate chigno-_

'The tutoring! Yes!' Lily blurted, remembering her responsibilities, and released Potter. Mirach cocked the head. 'I mean no, I haven't changed my mind! Tomorrow right after breakfast in the library!' Black's lips twitched. She hummed and strolled out without a backward glance.

The relief that coursed through Lily's veins was overwhelming.

'So, Evans.' Potter's arm rose and dropped. 'Going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?'

_Was it the time for that question?_

'No,' Lily said curtly. _She was hungry and tired, and Blacks were too bizarre to deal with on the best of days, and she'd seen that poisonous spider on "The World About Us", and her parents never sent the letter as they promised, and…_

'Sunday then, huh?'

_Could the bloke take a hint and bugger off?_

She watched Sirius from the corner of the eye, inching away from Potter. _Were they ever going to leave? She had to make sure the door was closed._

'Say, Evans…'

_Oh, dear Lord! No, she didn't want to go with him! Ever! _She faced Potter, ready to make it explicitly clear where he should stuff his idiotic propositions once and for all.

'Fu-uck!' Sirius roared, nearly ripping the hair from his head, and stormed off in Lily's next furious heartbeat. _The wizard could give anyone a heart attack!_ Potter groaned, smiled ruefully and chased after his mate.

_Thank Lord for the small mercies!_

Lily made way to the Great Hall, apprehensive and hopeful to get to dinner with no interruptions. Which she should've known was not to be with how the evening progressed. She glanced at the watch. At least there was still almost an hour and a half before the food was cleared.

Ahead, the Hufflepuff girl Lily saw earlier was crying while a Gryffindor bloke refused to let her leave.

'Just tell me what is _wrong_, Delia!' he shouted, slamming fists on the wall next to her head. The olive-skinned witch shrank and wailed, shaking the head.

'Step away from the girl.' Lily drew the wand. Cold disdain flooded her. _Was 'no' a difficult word to understand?_

He had the nerve to snap back. 'Fuck off!'

'I don't think so.' Lily aimed at him. Fury lit her insides. 'Step away from her _this instant_!'

The teen finally turned and blanched either at her expression or the raised wand. It was a fifth-year Gryffindor. Lennox Jordan, if Lily wasn't mistaken.

He lifted the hands in surrender but didn't move.

'Evans, I'm sorry,' the Gryffindor rushed to say. 'I'm a bit busy here discussing some things with my girlfriend.'

Lily glanced at the Hufflepuff who was in hysterics.

'She obviously doesn't want to speak to you right now.'

Jordan stepped to the left as if to shield the witch he brought to tears form the incredulous Lily. _Was the wizard completely delusional?_

'Listen,' he said in a placating tone, which annoyed Lily further. 'You can take points for my rudeness or whatever. But just walk away. It ain't any of your business.'

_And it wasn't. _

But the girl cried just like Mary last year after the disgusting things Mulciber tried to do to her _for a laugh_. Lily ground the teeth at the memory and threw her shoulders back, not dropping the aim. Her heart beat a steady if a slightly elevated rhythm, her hand was steady. It was strangely liberating to feel so much control.

'Leave and let her calm down.'

Jordan didn't care to listen, stubbornly not moving at inch. After a while, his arms flopped to the sides. _He thought she was taking the piss._

'I will curse you if I have to.' Lily prepared, watching bloke's every movement. But Jordan ignored the threat, turning his back on her.

'Delia, I'm sorry I yelled, just please talk to me,' he begged, trying to touch the girl's cheek. The witch flinched away and run around him and behind Lily.

The wizard wilted like the rose she'd once forgotten to water for a week and stood there so miserable pity overwhelmed Lily. _What was she to do with two crying kids?_

Then, he opened his mouth.

'Sticking your nose into other people's business,' the boy said. Resentment dripped from every word like a poison. 'Do you enjoy it, you meddling cunt?!' He whirled around, a hideous sneer marring his face. 'Not one of us ever snooped in your and Potter's relationship, innit?!'

The ugly grimace from the usually amiable teen chocked Lily for a brief moment before anger overtook the surprise. _Who did he think he was?_ A bogies hex was smoking on the end of her wand when Jordan threw one last pitiful glance at his girlfriend and buggered right off.

_The nerve of the wanker! Professor McGonagall would certainly not approve of such behaviour. Detention or two would serve the git right!_

Sniffles startled Lily out of the righteous indignation. The curly-haired witch was hugging herself, tears streaming from her puffy eyes surrounded by dark circles.

'Hey,' Lily murmured, patting the girl's shoulder, 'he's gone.'

Delia, as Jordan called the witch, shook her head as more tears fell.

_What would've mom said to her or Tuney?_

'There, there, dear.' Lily softened the voice to a near whisper, moving closer to the distraught teen, rubbing her upper arms. 'Why don't you tell me what's wrong?'

Delia wept in silence but didn't reject Lily's consolations.

When Tuney got dumped mom hugged her and listened and said in a strict no-nonsense tone, where them boys who didn't want to date any of her beautiful daughters had to stick it. Lily, who was eavesdropping from around the corner, barely held back the giggles when Petunia laughed breathily.

'You know, my mom always told me and my sister that no boy deserved our tears.' Lily tried to catch the girl's gaze. 'I'm sure yours would say something similar.'

Delia's face crumbled and she yowled, throwing herself at Lily.

'De-dead… only… only daddy…and he-he sa-said… he wo-ould… didn't… didn't work aga-a-ain… What do I do-o-o? Why, why me-e?' She dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs and coughs, and snuffles, and hiccups. 'I'm so tired!' the Hufflepuff wailed, clinging to Lily like a frightened kitten. 'Why, why… can't he… lea-leave me… alo-one? I don't wa-ant to do it! I'm tired… and so-so-so sca-ared!'

Her words drowned in an even more agonising bawl. Lily held the girl, fighting the itch inside her nose and eyes. Wave after wave, pity for the pathetically blubbing witch covered her. Rage stewed under it. Acid was clogging her throat from the mere thought about the vile implications of Delia's breakdown. _Manipulating an innocent girl, threatening to get her affections… Jordan was not going to get away with that! _

'Here's what we're going to do,' Lily said when the witch calmed. _They had to act quickly. Jordan would regret he had a willy at all!_ 'We'll go to your Head of the House and she'll call professor McGonagall and you will tell them everything he threatened you with.'

Delia recoiled, ashen in the face except for the redness around the eyes, nose and the lips. The yellow of Hufflepuff's scarf clashed with her terrified expression. _Just what did that wanker tell her?_

'Delia, whatever he said, it was a lie.'

The girl trembled, backing away.

_What was she afraid of Lily for? Didn't she need help?_

'He can't force you to do anything you don't want to!' Lily stomped the foot to relieve the mounting irritation when the Hufflepuff continued to retreat. 'Jordan or whatever boyfriend you'll ever have in the future have no right to blackmail you for sex!'

The 'ex' echoed along the fortunately empty corridor. Delia froze half-step and exhaled loudly, blushing pink. Lily's heart was hammering, as fire-flowers bloomed on her cheeks.

'Lennox.' Delia breathed out the name lovingly and started laughing.

Lily was dumbfounded. _Was she away with the fairies?_

'You misunderstood!' the Hufflepuff cried. 'Lennox would never!' And she went on singing praises to her boyfriend, who was so wonderful and understanding; and Lily got nothing to worry about; and it was just the stress before the end-of-term exams; and she was 'so silly' and 'so sorry to randomly turn the waterworks on'; and could Lily 'please not report Lennox' because 'everything was just a misunderstanding'.

Disappointment pulsed steadily in Lily's chest, turning her limbs heavy, mind – tired. _Why did girls settle for arseholes? Why protect those who only knew how to hurt? _

_Why did she even care?_

She tried to appeal, cutting off the Hufflepuff's stream of lies. 'Delia, the bloke isn't worth it.'

The words were of no use. Delia was in vehement denial, giving a twisted empty smile that was an obvious front for the inner turmoil Lily accidentally glimpsed. _At least, she wasn't crying anymore._

'Well…' Lily sighed as the awkward silence descended. _One couldn't support those who didn't want any help. Severus taught that lesson well. _

_But she could give an advice at least. Mom would suggest…_

'Talk to a friend!' The nervous energy of failing to connect with the girl turned her speech falsely excitable. _It was decent pointer, right?_ 'If you need a friend I can listen, or… or you can talk to your other,' - Lily swallowed, trying to slow down, - 'friends.'

Delia stared like she was a three-headed dog. _Petunia whispered, 'Freak,' under her breath. _

'Friends,' the curly witch echoed, eyes flickering and coming alive. The Hufflepuff beamed at the nonplussed Lily, repeating 'thanks' and 'sorries', and rushed off. She left behind a maw of ugly chagrin. It sat heavily in the back of Lily's throat. _What a massive failure. _

_Should she have ignored the couple?_

Her stomach growled and Lily hurried to the Great Hall. The hunger subdued her desire for an alone time after the eventful evening.

_What would Tuney say if she met with Delia or Potter, or, she feared to imagine, Mirach Black and that spider? _Suddenly, 'freak' didn't seem so hurtful. Lily's behaviour was more sensible and ordinary in comparison to most magical students.

'Where've you been?' Mary said when Lily flopped down at the table and filled her plate. She shrugged, not wanting to discuss any of the peculiar encounters. Jordan was picking at his dinner next to a blond bloke.

_Maybe, she should have left him to sort out his own mess._

'Marlene's at it again,' Dorcas whispered, nudging Lily in the ribs. Marley sat opposite of Mary and closest to the Potter's gang, snarling at Pettigrew.

'And how would you learn that, you little conniving Hobbit?! Oh, wait, your mommy told you so.'

'Fuck off, McKinnon! What do you know about anything?'

Black was squashed between the arguing duo _(which was a first)_ and ignored everything, glowering at the shepherd's pie in front of him. Potter yawned from across the table, messing his hair. Lupin stared at the ceiling vacantly, away in a daydream he visited so frequently lately.

'What's it about, this time?' said Lily between the spoonfuls. She wasn't interested in the topic of Marlene's occasional bitch fest with Pettigrew, but the alternative was to contemplate Jordan and Delia, which made her want to bang her head on the table.

'Peter said some witch was just another pure-blood princess waiting on a prince,' Mary muttered. Marlene called Pettigrew a nasty name. The mousy-haired wizard purpled with anger. _When they visited her grandfather in the hospital, Lily's mom noted such skin colour was bad for health. Papa Luke relished ranting to the point of nearing a heart attack often enough for her to know. _

Dorcas argued. 'Not some witch, Mary. He talked about Sirius's cousin.'

Lily choked on the tea and coughed, waving away the concerned pats. _Only the Black girl was missing to complete the evening._

'Speak of the devil,' Mary said.

Lily turned so fast something in her neck popped. Indeed, Black was strolling along the Gryffindor table, followed by murmurs and stares. A flock of third-years next to her stopped arguing about kelpies and unicorns and whispered urgently, 'Don't look into her eyes or you'll be jinxed forever.'

_Could someone curse with a glance? Severus boasted Advanced Legilimency worked that way._

The grey-haired witch ignored the hushed conversations and stopped behind Potter, looking straight at the sulking Sirius. The three spider legs were still sticking from the collar of her robes.

_Was it allowed to have such a creature as a familiar?_

Potter threw his head back, hair falling away from his eyes in an endearing way, and grinned at the girl. Mirach focused on him and smiled. It was a lovely, dimpled beam that lit her face.

The whole table peeked at the Hufflepuff witch. Lupin was awestruck, similar to a fine art connoisseur admiring La Gioconda. Dorcas whispered something to Mary, making her giggle. Pettigrew's mouth was still open, the retort forgotten. Marlene smirked, clapping her hands two times.

'Just the witch I needed!' she exclaimed in 'let's throw some shite at the fan' tone. Dorcas whimpered recognising the tone at once. 'Wouldn't you agree Peter here is just like little Pippin, Mirach?'

_When did Marlene meet her?_

'Shut your gob, before I make you!' cried Pettigrew, shaking the finger in brunette's face in front of silently fuming Sirius. _Why would Black choose to torture himself sitting there?_

'And what're going to do? Scream till I drop dead?'

'I'll tell my cousin-'

'Puh-lease, e-ve-ry-one knows you got no cousin-'

'-call me hobbit one mo-'

'Peregrin Took was courageous and kind,' Mirach's slow speech should've drowned in the raging argument. Yet, it rang clear, stopping the two mid-rant. 'How is it a bad comparison?'

_Did she read Tolkien? It could not be._

Someone loudly snorted down the table.

'His height, Black!' Davey Gudgeon shouted, snickering next to Kellaway _(what was he doing sitting at their table?)_, who flirted badly with the bored Emmeline Vance. 'She implies he's short like a hobbit.'

Mirach blinked. 'I'm even shorter.' Many of Lily's housemates laughed.

'Yeah, but you're cute,' Potter said, adding a nice rumble to his voice, and winked mischievously. Black didn't giggle or blush but furrowed her brows, pursed her lips. It didn't throw him off. _Potter was nothing but stubborn. _He opened his mouth...

'_You_'ve read Tolkien?' blurted Lily. The haunting blue eyes settled on her. Mirach waited silently. 'I mean,' Lily continued, needing to fill the sudden silence at the table. 'He was a muggle and you are…' She shrugged. _It was obvious, wasn't it? The whole school knew about her poisonous 'love' for her non-pure-blood housemates._

Marlene frowned. Mary and Dorcas exchanged glances, fidgeting. Potter was speechless, Lupin - _angry?_ Pettigrew slurped his tea, observing everyone with an alertness he rarely expressed in class.

'And she is a Black!' Sirius snapped, scowling. Lily lifted the hands in the peace offering. Tension made her heart pound. The annoyance and indignation began to rise. _She didn't say anything offensive or false!_

Mirach ignored her cousin's foul temper.

'Have you read Tolkien?'

_What was that question? She was the muggle-born out of the two of them!_

Lily glanced around. The table was anticipating her reply. _How was that ridiculous conversation interesting?_

'Well, yeah! Although, not everything he wrote.'

Mirach nodded, countenance inscrutable, and turned to Sirius. Lily exhaled in relief. _Why did she even speak to her?_

'About that meeting…' Mirach trailed off, clearly expressing the need to take the conversation away from the prying eyes.

_Lily wouldn't have wanted to discuss a disciplinary meeting in front of other people._

Sirius was quiet, mien stormy, mouth twisted in a peevish half-pout, half-sneer.

_Couldn't they practise the Shakespearean tragedy elsewhere?_

'Go on.' He donned an unconvincing mask of boredom, refusing to leave. _'Example of poorly performed occlumency,' Severus would have said, sneering. Black's petulance, on the other hand, was top-notch._

Marlene booed.

'Sod off, McKinnon,' Sirius shot back without heat.

Mirach observed him with narrowed eyes and slowly smiled. Lily swallowed. _Petunia beamed just as sweetly the day her laundry disappeared after a complaint about the pink spots from Tuney's red jeans._

'It. Went. Well.' And the witch turned away, leaving without another word.

Marlene cackled, pointing at the dumbfounded Sirius. Potter watched the retreating Hufflepuff with an amused grin. _What was so funny?_

Black smacked his fist on the table, knocking down several goblets, rattling the plates, making nearby students choke or jump in fright. He jumped up and stalked after the witch. His love for the abrupt bellows and slams was beyond annoying. Lily spilt the tea all over her front, which didn't even matter: the robes could've been salvaged only with the elf's help by that point.

Potter glanced at her as his gang followed Black. _Ugh!_

_Why couldn't Potter be a nice bloke? Kind, humble, not this bullying, arrogant-_

'-not like Remus but he sure does stare at her a lot,' said Mary. They reached the portrait of The Fat Lady and Lily barely noticed the journey. For a Friday evening, the common room was too empty. Few students gathered by the window table watching a game of exploding snap. The Head Girl spoke to Kirke in the corner. Lily groaned. _She had to patrol with Lupin tomorrow._

Dorcas peeked at her over the shoulder. 'Probably, because of Sirius.'

_What was that about?_

'May-be.'

Lily's curiosity was peaked. 'What are you whispering?'

The girls exchanged glances. Marlene looked testy, demonstratively picking her cuticles. Lily frowned in confusion. A needle of irritation at the dismissive attitude poked her.

'Well,' Dorcas started, 'you know, James…' She peered at Mary, scratching the upper arm. 'You might have a competition.'

_Competition? Potter? _Lily gritted her teeth. _Could she have a break from the toerag!?_

'I don't care who that poser fancies.'

_Would the topic never die?_

'Pfft!' Marlene couldn't even bother to look up from her stupid fingers. The pesky needle became a nail. _What was her problem? Lily certainly knew better who she liked and didn't._

'He curses everyone in the hallways for the fun of it,' she said to prove the point, ignoring Marlene's derisive snorts. 'He torments the Slytherins at random, he's a bully!' _Lily hated bullies!_

'So, you wouldn't mind him liking Sirius's cousin?' Dorcas smiled slyly.

_Sirius's cousin? That girl? _

_Again?_

'What?' Lily exclaimed, bewildered. Her chest burned, filling with hotness. She swallowed the vexation down. _It was ridiculous! The witch wasn't even Potter's type!_

'But Black is…' - Lily waved the hand, floundering for a fitting adjective, - 'plain and that hair,' - _Potter always admired her red locks._ \- 'And she's a bigot, which given that incident with the datura and her attitude-'

'Bullshite!' Marlene finally faced Lily, squaring shoulders like before a duel.

'You don't know that, Marley,' Mary said.

'But I do!' she cried, then, softened the tone. 'She's nice, really.'

Lily sniffed. _Clearly, it was a rose-tinted impression, however the two met._

'You should've heard how she spoke to professor McGonagall and me earlier. It didn't sound _so nice._'

Marlene scowled. 'Well, if you asked some high-horsed arsehole question _again._'

_What was that supposed to mean?_

'She said! I should ignore professor's request-'

'The horror!'

'Yes!' Lily stomped the foot to relieve some of her frustration. The furnace in her chest was growing hotter with every moment. _Why couldn't Marley understand?_ 'I am to tutor Black and she clearly despises me for my blood!'

Her friends and several students, scattered around the room, gaped.

Marlene shook the head with a disappointed mien. 'You're all about that kind of bullshite lies, aren't ya?!'

Lily chocked on a breath. _Was that a joke? What lies?! She said none! _'Just what is your problem with me?' she cried. Her cheeks and chest radiated heat, eyes were full of sand.

Marlene continued the blame speech. 'Doherty,' - _What?_ \- 'Now, Mirach,' - _Doherty?! Doherty! - _'Are you spreading rumours about her as well?'

_This again? What had the snake to do with anything?_

'You're ranting because of that wretched Slytherin bigot _again_?!' Lily yelped.

'It doesn't matter what she is!' The brunette blew the long bangs out of her flashing brown eyes. 'You hit her with a curse in class and never apologised!'

'Served her right!' Lily shouted, gulping breaths. Fury was hollowing her inside out. _Why was Marlene attacking her? They were on the same side!_

Marlene gawked, incredulous. Mary and Dorcas stepped away, refusing to join the years-old argument about the Slytherin. Some students left the room to avoid the fight. Others watched on or minded their own business.

Marley scrunched up her forehead. 'Who are you?' - _Why was she making that expression?_ \- 'Did it serve her right in the third year when you spread all those rumours?'

'It sure did!'

The brunette recoiled.

_But Lily was no liar, however ugly the truth might've been! _'And I had nothing to do with the rumou-'

'Puh-lease!'

'I had nothing to do with the rumours!' Lily tugged on the earlobe and hissed in sharp pain. It faded right after in a deafening pounding of her pulse. _How many times were they going to return to this foolish argument? What did it matter anymore? It's been years! _

Lily sniffed. 'And even if I had she deserved it for that foul word she spewed everywhere!'

'She was thirteen, Lily!' Marlene cried, wrinkling the nose as if smelling something foul. 'Parents took her out of school for the whole term! She's a girl just like you and me! Imagine, how humiliating it would've been, how terrible if there was some bullshite circulating that you were sleeping with a professor!'

Lily scoffed. 'Well, she shouldn't have done that!'

'It was proven she didn't!'

_Surely! Blood and money in this world could clean any slate. _The temper was getting the better of her and she could control it no better than Sev's spiteful words.

'And she shouldn't have called me a Mudblood!' she yelled, tears flooding her vision. Lily blinked furiously, refusing to let them spill. The ringing in her ears was deafening, making her brain ache. Every other noise ceased in the wake of the uttered slur.

'Of course.' Marlene nodded after a while, then, shook the head. Lily's chest constricted at her dismayed mien. 'Everyone in the whole fucking school knows that nobody calls Lily Evans the M-word.' Marley's stare filled with disdain. 'Wait,' - her lip curled. - 'Your sleazy friend didn't, but he learnt real quick, didn't he?'

Something tickled Lily's cheek and she brushed it away, dumbstruck._ What business did Marlene have bringing up Severus?_

'Your friend threw the word that offends you so much left and right for years. But it didn't matter, didn't it? Until he said it to _you_!'

_None of her friends ever tried to accept or understand him._

'You call Potter a bully, but you're no better!'

_Potter? _

'And you clearly fancy the bloke!'

_Potter!? The tormentor of her hateful former friend? That was irresistible, isn't it!?_

The pain in her chest transformed into a white-hot rage, spreading rapidly like a forest fire.

'Potter that, Potter this! Maybe, you're the one who fancies him!' Lily poked Marlene in the cheek. Something inside her itched to lash out and, when the flames in her chest engulfed it, she let go. 'Or that... that spider-loving grey-haired _freak_!'

Nausea hit her like the sea waves slammed the Dover cliffs. Lily had to cover the mouth to stop the bile that threatened to expel from her gut.

_Oh, dear God!_

_She said it._

_How could she have said this word?_

'Admit it!' Marlene demanded, unaware of her anguish.

Lily's self-disgust melted into an absolute wrath. _The fuckwitted son of a sodding toad!_

_How many times must she repeat? _

_She didn't like Potter! _

_Not one bit! _

_Not in a million years!_

'I can't _stand_ the braggart!' Lily shouted hoarse, trembling all over. 'And I pity you! Or anyone who has the misfortune to get his attention! I want nothing to do with that snob! I said and said 'no' until I lost count! Can't you bloody take a hint? Can't he!?'

Lily gulped the air, as the room spun around and tilted from side to side. Her heart pounded, painfully stuttering every other beat. She rubbed her chest, trying to appease the discomfort. Everything was silent, but her loud breaths.

Mary signed, Dorcas winced. Marlene's gaze was sad, even contrite. Dread and regret filled Lily, squeezing her lungs and throat. She had no courage to face the boy, who by the twisted Sod's Law of this dreadful evening must have heard everything.

'No worries, Evans,' James Potter said, and a black pit opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow everything whole. 'I'll take that hint now.'

He stalked towards the dorms. Lily lowered her head, not willing to meet anyone's glare. The utter defeat and shame overflowed. If she were a cup she would be drowning in an ocean of regret.

_She spoke her mind, didn't she? She denied and argued; exaggerated and blamed; even insulted. Yet, the frustration didn't dissipate._

_But was it fair to spill everything on Marlene? Mary? Dorcas?_

_On Potter? _

_Was it even how she truly felt? _

'Call Mirach a freak again, Evans, and Prong's feelings to you wouldn't matter anymore,' Sirius warned in a menacing murmur.

Everything swam in front of Lily, and her tears finally, _finally_ fell. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered, not sure if anyone heard.

The evening was officially far worse than after Severus rejected her help in the most derogatory way possible. _She shouted at Marlene and was hurtful to someone, who genuinely liked her._

'Lily,' Mary said tentatively. A warm palm gently touched her shoulder. Lily glanced up into the concerned faces of her friends. Marlene was flushed from their argument but didn't she leave. A fierce urge to make everything better filled Lily.

She sniffed, wiping the tears away. 'Marley, I'm sorry.'

'You should apologise to someone else, Lily,' Marlene said, ripping her cuticles with her teeth. 'And I'm sorry, too.' She stepped from foot to foot, frowning and averting the eyes. 'But, you know, this argument. We'll just keep coming back to it.'

'Wha-'

Marlene stopped her question with a raised hand. 'I felt awful about Doherty. And so very sorry it happened, and I apologised-'

'For wha-'

'-even though she didn't accept it.' Marlene let out a relieved sigh. _What? _'I couldn't forgive myself even thinking that I could've contributed to that _fucking_ rumour.'

_Oh._

Lily had no reply to that.

Marlene stared at her and sighed, blowing the bangs out of the eyes. 'Think about it, Lily,' she said and walked away.

Lily's head was spinning for the rest of the evening. The unpleasant sensation of missing something didn't dissipate.

Marlene insisted Lily fancied Potter (_which she didn't_), while the wizard was watching Black (_which she didn't care about_).

'-kelpie, dark and hiding in the tall grass-'

Marley called the peculiar witch nice (_which Black wasn't, and Lily dreaded their tutoring session the very next morning_).

'-like a unicorn! Shiny, silver-'

Marlene still blamed her for the Doherty scandal.

'-too many lullabies, that's what-'

Lily sighed. The words of the book that lay on her knees made no sense.

'-saw it! It appears at the Quidditch pitch every night-'

_But what good an apology would do years later? And wouldn't it confirm that Lily was at fault, which she wasn't._

'Two in the morning, we're telling you!'

The shout startled her. The book slipped and flopped on the floor. She scrambled to get it, but the pages were already bent. _Pince was going to crucify her._ A group of third-years blushed and scattered under Lily's glare. _If only her worst problem was a creased paper._

That night no dreams stayed with Lily, despite her active habit of keeping the dream journal. Breakfast was slow. At eight the Great Hall was nearly empty: most students, including her friends, choosing sleep over food until the last moment.

At the Hufflepuff table, Head Boy kept fixing his badge, every so often glancing at the Gryffindor Head Girl, who faced him and pretended to be oblivious. The blush on her cheeks was a dead give-away.

A witch lay on the bench at the Ravenclaw table, dancing with her wrists and fingers. A blond wizard next to her stared, and once the girl was finished made similar hand movements as if replying in an unknown language. Lily didn't risk looking beyond the Ravenclaw, not willing to meet Severus's dark eyes even by accident.

The post arrived. Lily, content to finally get the letter from her parents, settled to read. They praised the sights of Portsmouth and recounted Petunia's likes and dislikes (Lily snorted at the detailed description of the hair-styling struggles close to the sea) and wrote how regrettably dull and forgettable last evening was.

_How did she confuse the day of their return trip? At least, they were safely home._

Reluctantly Lily tugged at the Prophet, peeking at the front page. 'An Attack on the Muggle-borns in the Southsea Was Prevented by the Aurors,' read the title. The picture starred scowling twins, a round-faced tall wizard, a short-haired smiling witch and a savage-looking man, who stood serious and alert in front of some kind of palace on a pier. The sub-title claimed no casualties for a change, which was a relief. Lily ignored the rest of the paper, in no mood to read nonsense about the pure-blood marriages or disappearances of muggle-borns and their families.

To her annoyance, the Black girl didn't show up. Lily had no choice but to hope the witch waited at the library. Marlene was missing as well though Dorcas and Mary came, waving and chatting as usual. Potter's gang rushed into the Hall minutes before the end of the breakfast. Black glared, Lupin gave a curt nod, Pettigrew checked around like a dodgy nutter, most probably for Marlene. James, who went out of his way to send Lily a dazzling grin every single morning, didn't so much as breathe in her direction.

Unease ate away at her insides as she contemplated not having the wizard's attentions. A bizarre sense of loss churned in her gut. _Did she get used to the toerag?_ Lily sniffed, dismissing the notion of missing him. _She had better to do._ _The tutoring wouldn't give itself for one. She'd even try to trust Marlene's judgment and give Mirach the benefit of the doubt._

_Potter was of no matter. Whom he fancied had nothing to do with her. Lily wanted him to bugger off and he finally did. _

_So why wasn't she happy?_


	7. Fear

7.

_Each time I wish to let illusion fade_

_Into the void guzzling my life which I don't turn to words._

_But_

_Her apparition is so starkly clear:_

_Pale hair, absentminded smile_

_Bring memory of faces on the walls,_

_'Friends' spelled all over_

_Like a charm._

**Saturday, November 20, 1976, 9:37am **

Tiny fingers of the softest of pinks curled into wee fists around her right thumb. In the left palm, she held the baby's head in a gentle grip, the thin silk of blond strands tickling her skin. Little one's eyes were already open, pale blue and so beautiful, breath caught in her throat where the heart swelled, overfull with adoration and fierce devotion.

The precious memory was so vivid, Pandora didn't even have to leave the present one. Xeno was her true love but as the days _(was it years?)_ wore on, the need to constantly stay with Luna consumed nearly everything else. Pandora revisited seconds with her little girl committing to every word, touch, and twitch, and glance, learning them by heart. Luna was her priceless treasure. _(Which she paid for, didn't she?) _

Above her, Xeno's hands moved gracefully in a dancing conversation they would have every morning of their married life. It was the first time they played this game. It made the memory ring with promise. By nightfall, he would ask her to Hogsmeade, shy and awkward and impossibly sweet. Pandora would blush, and stutter, and accept, and their fate would be sealed.

In rare moments of not doting on Luna, she indulged in endless returns to this particular sunny day, months before the darkness cloaked their lives with a cursed veil. The script of this Saturday was ingrained in her retinas and mind on par with the memories of her baby. Thus, when a small change happened, it walloped Pandora, no less potent than the curse of the deranged witch in her inevitable past.

_A grey-haired girl was not supposed to be in the memory. _

_The library desk where she now sat had always stayed empty. _Pandora knew that for a fact, for the unshakable truth, for the unchangeable memory of a life which only could've been reviewed within the confines of a mocking tiny space the blasted mist allowed.

The interloper sat uncaring and oblivious to the disorder she caused by her mere presence. Pandora's pulse skyrocketed, blood rushed in her temples, breathing stuttered, making her feel alive and _truly there for the first time in a long time. (She'd forgotten that sensation.) _

Gulping down her anxiety, Pandora cautiously left Xeno to his excited muttering about the creatures he'd dreamt of last night. Her heart lurched in concurrent relief and disappointment when he noticed no difference. It was usual. No one ever saw or heard Pandora outside of the actions of her memory-self. Confused and more than a little apprehensive, she turned to the grizzled intruder.

Piles of books laid open and spilling knowledge in front of the witch. Engrossed in an old text, she trailed the lines in the book, scribbling slowly in a journal to the left. Grey curls, darkening to black at girl's nape, were styled in gentle waves around an unfamiliar rosy face. The rich material of the dark high-collared robes she wore screamed pureblood, yet, Pandora had no name to recall and it drove her to the edge of panic.

(_How did she appear in her memories?)_

'You weren't at breakfast,' someone said from behind like it was a major offence. Pandora started but couldn't will her bulging eyes away from the girl _who shouldn't have been there and brought more people in!_ The witch dropped the quill, right hand on the book twitching. Her neat curls rose like underwater and coiled into a messy halo, just as she slowly glanced up and _met Pandora's stare._

Anxiety swelled in her gut. _How could she see her? _Pandora cowered in the mist at the edge of the memory to regain composure. _How could she see her?_ Shallow breaths disturbed the fog, but the pasty wall quickly swallowed them.

Once upon a time, she may have loathed the misty prison of past echoes. The punishment had been fresh, the hope to break away and change something, _(anything) _still pulsed in her. Acceptance soon followed. The cage became a symbol of order and security.

_And everything was right. _

Past surrounded her: a blessing _(a curse)_ from Elpis. Pandora lived her life and gave it away. She was grateful for a chance to remain with her loved ones, even in chains. She hated that she couldn't move on. _Feared even more, that she would have to, one day._ Hers was a risk-free existence. The safety, that reality, where Pandora could recall any moment with her daughter or husband or anyone, certain of the content of every evocation, made it bearable, blissful even.

She knew it all. _Nothing could ever go wrong again._

That surety was shattered by a witch who couldn't have been _in her head! It was impossible._

The loud voice carried through the fog. 'We never got to introduce each other yesterday. I'm Lily Evans, sixth-year Prefect from Gryffindor.'

_No, no. It was a hiccup in the brain. It would pass._

It didn't.

Pandora found herself next to Xeno again, unable to do much but gape at the two intruders. The red-haired one stood proud and tall in muggle clothes, hand extended in greeting. The grey-haired observed the offered limb with a neutral expression before lifting her own slowly.

(_What was happening?)_

Pandora screwed up her eyes until the white spots filled the darkness. _She wanted out of that memory! Now!_

A soft drawl followed her. 'Mirach Black.'

Several simultaneous images assaulted Pandora with viciousness, sending sharp jabs into her brain. _(A Black?) Did the girl say Black?_ Her head pulsed with a blinding ache, nausea rose like a storm wave. _She'd seen the witch before. And yet, she hadn't… until now? _

_(Had she finally lost her mind?)_

Pandora paid little attention to breakfast, all musings stolen by her accident-prone friend. Iseult Byrne's singed eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Brunette's wand ominously pointed at the goblet. Pandora knew another attempt to turn water into wine would shortly result in a mild explosion. Iseult flared dramatically, words forming on her lips.

'Dear all!' the Headmaster boomed.

'Taeda!' Iseult cast at the same time and her goblet expelled a foot high pillar of yellow flame.

The Great Hall was silent for a heartbeat until a whistle and a cheer started the chain reaction. Wild laughter broke out. Students pointed at the bewildered Iseult. Chanting began at the Gryffindor table: 'Byrne burn bright! Let her keep us alight!' Pandora glanced towards the teachers' table and groaned from the intense pain behind her left eye. Her vision swam and doubled as the memory divided into two.

_Embarrassed by the fun she produced, Iseult rushed out of the Hall to clean up._

Yet, there she was, covered in soot, studying the grey-haired witch who stood in front of them all with a bland hollow-cheeked visage. Professor McGonagall held the Sorting Hat next to the stranger.

'Hogwarts welcomes all,' the Headmaster announced when laughter and burn-rhymes turned into excited murmurs as more pupils noticed the witch. 'No matter the background or even age. Help will always be given to those who seek it within these walls.'

Pandora's heart pounded, heavy and painful. (_How was this possible?) _McGonagall beckoned the girl to the sorting stool which shouldn't have been there. The second week of September of 1976 greeted no new students. _She was sure of it!_

'Please welcome Miss Mirach Black to our humble temple of knowledge!'

_A Black!_

Pandora hissed, cursing under the breath.

_(What was going on?) What kind of dark magic that wretched family tapped into to get inside her head?_

_She wanted out!_

The scenery changed so quickly Pandora's gut revolved. Gulping down the urge to retch, she sat in the inner yard under the fern tree, when the fight broke out.

A tiny golden-haired Hufflepuff tripped and fell on all fours as her bulging satchel tore, spewing books and ink on the grass. Derisive laughter of the four Gryffindor third-years was loud and grating.

Double vision returned with sickening clarity.

_A pitiful wail attracted the prefect nearby who scolded the bullies and took the child away._

But the girl didn't get the opportunity to bawl. The damaged bag was repaired, hovering in the air, while its contents stacked inside. The grey-haired interloper appeared before the fallen blond who rose smoothly in motion far too fluid to be her own. The child gazed at Black with huge eyes, as her robes straightened and were spelled clean. Pandora stumbled from the bench. _It was not her memory! _In panic, she stepped on the hem of her robe and it ripped loudly in the silence of the small garden. No one noticed, which was as it should have been.

And then, Black slowly turned.

Disquieting dark eyes settled over her like a heavy suffocating mantle. Pandora shivered in revulsion, hairs of her arms and neck rising as if electrolysed. _She hated those eyes! The last thing she ever wanted to remember was a feverish gaze of a Black!_

'What could be… so funny?' the trespasser said slowly, turning away with a frown, leaving Pandora to gulp breaths of terror and painful relief. Unsurprisingly, the four Gryffindors felt the same dread under Black's scrutiny. They blanched and froze like lost fawns when the witch advanced on them.

'Surely, not someone's misery.'

Pandora ground her teeth. Intense loathing spread, charring her insides._ What would a Black know about misery other than which they caused themselves?_

'Maybe, you'd like to practice that jinx on me?' the witch said. She was self-important to the point of not drawing a wand in open conflict against several opponents. Pandora wished the bullies cursed her into the next year. But the girls cowered with stuttering apologies.

_What Gryffindors, _

_what courage._

The blond chirped like a cute yellow canary. 'Thanks! I'm Amelia Bones, by the way! And you're Mirach Black! You were sorted late, you must be smart! And you're Hufflepuff like me! Did I say thanks?!'

It was appalling seeing an innocent child bestow such reverence on someone as twisted as a Black. Pandora slammed the palms over her ears. Nausea forced her to kneel.

_She needed out!_

_Out!_

The garden crumbled away. The grass and the breeze morphed into a long stuffy poorly lit hall. Lightheaded and queasy, Pandora crouched by the offering for a nargle Xeno swore he saw in this part of the Charms hallway. A shadow run past, which she ignored. _She wanted Luna, not another foreign memory._

'What're you staring at, you foolish girl?' said a voice that was more of a hiss.

Pandora gave in to her tremulous curiosity. A wizard slouched before the familiar grey-haired intruder. The lad cut a frightening visage if not for the intricate antlers sprouting from his head. Pandora snorted. _Not that anyone would've heard. _Black evidently could, and Pandora was drowning in her wicked stare. Deep purple shadows settled under those haunting eyes. The witch looked frail, face drawn and pallid. Slowly she brought a hand up as if to check for fever.

The wizard whipped around, robes swishing, dirty black locks flying in dramatic fashion. His mouth was stuck in an ugly sneer, suspicious eyes scanned the hall, passing over Pandora with no awareness. He turned away. Black reluctantly unglued her gaze, attention flickering between them both once. The girl swallowed, throat clicking, and was silent.

'I can see you are mentally impaired to understand simple questions.' The wizard drew the wand with a flourish. 'Maybe, I can fix a few loose screws for you.'

Pandora gulped against the pressure rising in the air, settling cross-legged against the wall. She had little choice but to wait for the memory to play itself out. _Or she could leave like before. (Or she could stay for a moment or two.)_

The antlered berk struck. His curse bounced off of a clear shield protecting Black and sent him flying. He landed heavily right in front of Pandora. The antlers clanked and crunched, breaking when he slammed into the stone. _(At least they protected his thick skull.)_

The wizard wasted no time down, rolled to the side, and jumped into the offence position. Teeth bared, sallow cheeks flushed unbecoming pink, antlers - broken curved stumps, he was a picture of an outraged satyr sans the goat legs. Pandora snickered.

'Neat trick, Black.' The wizard spat the last name like obscenity. Pandora's humour evaporated at the hateful tone. A shiver raced down her spine. She could relate to the derision, but not his aggression. 'You got lucky, but that luck now expired.'

Without a word, Black held a hand up for him to halt. Pandora sneered at the imperious gesture and rose. _Just how arrogant a Black could be? _Predictably, the wizard attacked again, throwing curse after curse with little restraint. Foreboding filled her senses. He steadily moved towards the verge of doing something truly nasty.

_She didn't care to witness any more Unforgivables, even aimed at Black._

_She wanted to be with Luna. She should've left. (Anytime. She was free to go or stay.)_

Black was capable of protecting herself. A strong protego absolved every bit of offensive magic. The wizard either appreciated the defences or was starved for a way to vent anger. He doubled the assault, going into a near frenzy and cackling madly. The potency of his casting and witch's shielding imbalanced the charged air. A faint taste of ozone settled like an unpleasant aftertaste at the back of Pandora's throat. If not for the wizard's perturbing lack of control, the whole scene might have been beautiful: the lad moved with impressive agility and skill, while Black held firm and steady, focus unwavering. The spells collided with her shield in bright mesmerising explosions.

'No Potter to gang up with against me this time, aren't there, Black!?' His shouts were furious if interrupted by an occasional wheeze. The antlers-boy was getting tired and appeared more crazed by the minute. Pandora has seen the look before. Though, she expected Black to lose it. Madness was in her blood, after all. _(Wasn't it Sirius Black who joined Potter at the hip until he betrayed him?)_

_Why was she watching this spectacle? She should've gone to Luna._

'How long can you keep your feeble spell up, I wonder?'

_Should she walk away? Dive into the mist and ignore the memory? (She could wait and see.)_

'Or maybe I shall try something that will _cut right through_ your shield!?'

The malicious inflexion made her guts flip in a long-forgotten worry for another. _(Surely, the idiot wouldn't dare an Unforgivable.)_ Pandora moved without a thought and had to force herself to stop. _She didn't need this. Luna was her only concern. _The jerky movements brought Pandora nearly face to face with the boy in all his baleful glory. He didn't see her, but Black must have grown distracted. The wizard beamed in triumph and thrust the wand as if striking with a sword.

'Sectumsempra!'

His wand tip expelled a violent pale blast. He froze.

Momentarily, his jubilation drained, replaced with a terrified chock. Pandora's chest exploded with the familiar pulling ache. For a heartbeat, the boy's expression was Luna's in both the best and the worst moment of Pandora's life. It stirred the memories she vowed to never visit. It stole her every breath.

Heart slamming in the gut, Pandora spun, expecting Black to be down in a lifeless heap. The witch stood. Pieces of grey curls drifted to the floor, hair was cut messily all around her face, more uneven on the left side. Her left sleeve was in tatters. Limp arm hidden in the dark torn fabric dripped red on the floor.

(_A lot of red.)_

Relieved no death occurred, Pandora staggered away from them both, colliding with the stone behind. Pressure in the air squeezed her skull like an ill-fitting tiara. Yet, despite the discomfort, she hadn't felt more alive in a long while.

_She wanted to share it with Luna._

Black gazed into space, wide navy blue eyes unseeing, lips parted by a shuddering exhale and a name? (_George?)_ The right hand she still kept up twitched and the boy yelped. The wand was ripped from his slackening hold with a strength that made him reel.

_(Wandless?) Was Black wandless the whole time?_

Pandora slid down the wall, confusion and rising pressure making her limbs shaky.

Black examined the wand floating above her right palm and plucked it from the air with the bleeding hand. Her ruined sleeve slid down exposing forearm littered with deep gushing slashes.

'Counter?' she said with a rasp. The boy stood slack-jawed, in shock either because he dared to use such a sick curse or because the victim lived through it. Black tried to snap something but only gabble came out. Startled, the wizard jerked back with a horrified mien. _(At least, he had some self-consciousness.)_

'I…' He gulped a breath and wet his bloodless lips. No further sound came.

'Speak,' Black said urgently and swayed. Blood was pooling at her feet at an alarming speed. The wizard lurched forward, arms spread to catch the unsteady girl but aborted the decision just as abruptly. His face contorted in bewilderment before screwing in disgust. He glared as if the witch was responsible for his fleeting decency.

'Vulnera Sanentur,' he said with a sour grimace.

Black reacted with a violent recoil, blanching ghost-like. She tripped and nearly lost her balance. With a loud clatter, the wand fell from her fingers and rolled to the middle ground between them. Her frozen expression was so empty it was frightening. Heavy ozone scent infused the corridor. Pandora forgot to breathe at the unexpected spike in tension. Her heart pounded against the lungs, making holding the air all the more uncomfortable.

The boy sneered, sensing weakness like a vulture. His whole countenance lifted: eyes filled with a sickening satisfied shine, thin lips curled, unflattering blush coloured the cheeks and forehead. At that moment, Pandora found him uglier than the deranged Bella Lestrange with that hideous wand above her mother.

'Ah, you _know_ it.' He straightened, leering down at Black, desire to hurt again openly telegraphed in his every action. 'The entirety of Slytherin remembered it thanks to Carrows.' He swaggered forward, snatching the wand from the floor viper-quick.

_Was he proud of the fact? (Weren't the Carrows Death Eaters sent to rot in Azkaban?)_

Pandora felt sick. _She didn't need to think of any of this! It was long gone! She wanted Luna!_

The pillock stopped in front of Black, who now held both arms aloft like a pathetic shield. Sure and cocky, the boy perceived no threat from the witch any longer. For a heartbeat, he scrutinised her wounds with pursed lips. A foul smirk formed on them.

'Of course, you'd know, given your sister's favourite…' He didn't get the chance to finish. A blinding flare lit the hall. Its source was in Black's palms.

_(What in the name of Circe?)_

Inky blossoms in Pandora's vision greyed and she could see again. The boy was in a daze, face slack and appealing without the scowl. He blinked. Glower distorted his features.

'Out of the way, you twit!' He slammed into Black's injured shoulder. She went down with a faint grunt.

Pandora's mind started and raced. Fine tremors wracked her muscles as the adrenaline filtered out of the bloodstream. _She'd had enough._ Black was unimportant, the whole encounter was a waste of her time. It was but an illusion of change. _(Was change even possible?) She didn't need it!_ _She needed to get out!_

The hall melted into the fog. Familiar auditorium formed, instead.

_Not another… Just how many more of them?_

'…Giant Wars is the most fascinating topic, I insist…' Professor Binns's rumblings ceased as his form faded out of view while students filtered out.

A high-pitched innocent voice echoed across the emptying classroom. 'Say, Black, you're not bad looking from up close.' Pandora's focus snapped to the left.

The grizzled witch was packing unhurriedly in her seat in the first row. Randall Travers crowded her, leering obnoxiously. Miren Selwyn clutched at his robes, tagging and whispering rapidly. The boy shook her off like an annoying pest and leant closer to Black, who was studiously ignoring him.

'Now that you proved yourself,' Travers said in a sing-song, 'we Slytherins can take you under…' Selwyn yanked him again and the boy whirred with murder in his eyes. The chilling grimace disappeared as soon as he noticed their company.

'Cousin.' Regulus Black always spoke imperiously. His back was straight, posture regal, robes pressed, the helms embroidered with silky green letters 'b'. He was as conceited as a Black came.

Pandora clenched the fists until her joints popped and suspired heavenward, wishing the scene to change.

_Why was she seeing these 'memories'? She didn't need them! What was the point?_

'A word, if you please,' the Black-wizard commanded. Travers backed with an easy grin, seized Selwyn's upper arm (the girl winced in pain) and scrammed without complaint.

_No one could stop Pandora from leaving as well… (She could run away anytime.)_

The Black-witch _(Meraak, wasn't it?) _reclined with a sigh and studied the empty room, hands folded on the desk. Her disturbing eyes met Pandora's for a second and darted back to the boy. She appeared significantly healthier _(in this memory?)_

'Regulus,' she said in a crooning tone, soft and chiding.

It was the wizard's turn to look around. His face relaxed once he noted their privacy. For him, Pandora wasn't in the room. Still, like of any Black, his dark stare was oppressive. It slid off of her, leaving the limbs and spine crawling with emerging gooseflesh. Meraak's silent scrutiny only added to the uneasy sensation.

He exhaled. 'As I said in the letter, this is your chance. Travers got the mood right.'

'You well know I did not curse anyone.' Meraak enunciated the words as if talking to a child. The Black-wizard sauntered to the window next to her table and spun, expression lit with frenetic excitement.

…_ nasty howler and mascots dancing…_

Pandora blinked the image away. Pain stabbed her temples and forehead and settled into an uncomfortable throb under the skin.

Regulus dismissed the girl with an agitated hand gesture. His long legs carried him back and forth. 'Mother probably knows it, too. _But!_ She is willing to let the past go for you,' - he sucked in a great breath and let go in a murmur, - '_for Sirius_.'

'You are delusional,' Meraak notified him. Pandora would've snorted if her skull wasn't exploding in agony.

'You are ungrateful!' He halted his pacing to point an accusing finger. 'You should prostrate yourself before mother! Grovel at her feet! Curse a few mudbloods to satisfy her!'

_… zealous introduction by professor Slughorn…_

'Do try to reign in your vileness.' _(Meraak spoke funny.)_ The lilting cadence appeased Pandora, like Xeno's lullabies.

The wizard scoffed. 'Right! Coming from _you_.'

'I do not care about blood, Regulus.'

_… bewildered appreciation from professor Gallagher in Runes…_

Pandora gaped at the exclamation, her slack jaw stretching the skin of the pulsing temples unpleasantly. _That was a lie, for certain. _Regulus wasn't surprised, which was baffling in itself. He stroked the chin, leaning against the window frame, and observed his cousin.

'You should,' he said, at last, resuming pacing, no less frenzied. 'You're a Black, you will always be a Black, no matter what.'

_… sneers and giggling for 'another star' in the halls in September…_

'I'll decide what I'll be for myself.'

Pandora cradled her pounding head. The cold of her palms felt blissful against the unrelenting hurt.

_… a gentle smile directed at the excited blond child in the garden…_

_… song of a healing spell, blood siphoning back into the wounds…_

Pandora couldn't have enough air. Other corrections to _her_ memories kept adding on.

_… poisoning of Hufflepuffs…_

_… Slughorn's tactless praise for the complexity of the toxin…_

_Her memories were editing themselves! _Pandora shot up, gulping breaths, terrified nearly out of her mind._ What did Black do to her?! And Luna!_

'-ebt is settled, it's time to come back!' The Black-boy was having a crisis of his own and looked close to shaking or strangling the witch.

'I'll n'v'r r'turn t' tha' house!' Mirach _(of course, she was 'another star') _stumbled both over her words and her robes in a hurry to rise.

Regulus clutched her shoulders when the girl wobbled precariously. He released her as quickly, stepping back. Pandora gaped at his miserable face before the boy hid it, tipping the head back. _(It was the most human she ever saw Regulus Black being.)_

Mirach didn't share his desire to contemplate the ceiling. With a determined mien, she held a hand above the desk while the rest of her belongings stacked into the bag. Curious, Pandora trailed closer. The nonchalance of her wandless casting didn't quite fit the rumours of Black's inability to use magic. Pandora blinked. _Where did that knowledge come from?_ Her heart stuttered again. The _corrections_ now were nigh impossible to distinguish from the original memories.

_What if she couldn't see Luna again? (She did remember her.)_

Fear burgeoned, rich and devouring. Pandora slumped on the nearest desk, choking on rising despair. _She wouldn't ever lose Luna! (Luna was still years in the making.)_

'Come to Grimmauld.' The timid request barely registered through the fog in Pandora's mind. _Was it the blasted mist? She should leave the memory. (She should watch a bit more.)_

'Why would I do that?' Mirach's cadencing drawl was calming like Xeno's tales. _(It was alright.) She would go to Luna in a moment._ Pandora focused on Black to dissociate from the rising trepidation. The regard was mutual. Shrewd navy blues peered right into her soul.

_(What did Mirach see there?)_

'Uncle Cygnus…' Regulus fell silent when the witch tensed. He paced. Three steps and a sharp turn.

'You should've attended…'

Whatever the boy was trying to say it pained him. Six steps became nine, twelve, fifteen.

'Mother would've never…' Another botched attempt at speech had his composure shattered. He stopped, both hands in the dark locks, fingers tagging.

'I saw that cruciatus backfire,' he said, voice hoarse, 'and Bella is unhinged now,' - Pandora flinched, hissing at that name, - 'but you…'

He whirled and stalked towards Mirach, hair messy, eyes flashing. 'How could you handle it all?' Regulus loomed above the girl, searching her face. 'I know Sirius couldn't have,' he whispered. His Adam apple bobbed in a long swallow. 'I know I couldn't.' He slowly reached for one of the grey curls, caressing it with his slim fingers, observing it with regret.

'But how much can you take before you lose it as well?'

The air Pandora was holding expired from her lungs, bouncing off of the walls of the grand auditorium. Black's question shook her to the marrow for reasons she didn't care to contemplate ever again.

'Maybe, I already did,' Mirach said, glancing her way. 'Who's your blond friend?'

Regulus swivelled on his heels and had the wand drawn so fast Pandora stood no chance to even think to hide. Not that she needed to. His sharp inspection passed over her as if she was furniture. He crowed with short laughter.

'Your humour has atrocious timing as always.'

Mirach didn't share the joke, gaping at Pandora for a long while. Her countenance crumbled in anguish, eyelids and the skin around the lips flushed. She gulped a huge breath, lashes fluttering in obvious attempt to stave off tears. Pandora moved, struck with the need to comfort.

Regulus beat her to it.

Mirach flinched at the touch but didn't reject it. Her pale face appeared fragile in his large palms. He cradled it like Luna held her precious china doll. Mirach played the part, standing stiff and unmoving, reddened eyes flickering to Pandora and away.

'We'll soon have to _choose_, cousin.' The wizard's timbre was mellow but words - heavy with meaning, gaze - sharp. '_Family_ should be _together_.' When Mirach tried to shy away his gentle hold hardened, palms slid to her nape, fingers flexing. From up close, Pandora could make out the finer details about the witch like faint ink smudges by the left ear, where the black in her curls gave in to grey and the flutter of pulse under the pressure of wizard's thumb.

'My brother is obsessed with you,' Regulus whispered with bitterness that bellowed jealousy. Pandora quietened her breath, chill rushing down the arms.

A soft sigh left Mirach. 'He broke your heart.' Her observation held no inflexion.

Black's mien darkened, jaws worked, making his face even more angular. His heavy glare turned borderline sinister. The look was all too familiar to Pandora. Terror reared its ugly self. Her curiosity fled.

'You can bring him back,' the boy demanded. 'He'll follow you, listen to you.' Mirach was still, unyielding against the tightening noose of wizard's hands around her neck.

Pandora shivered. _Whatever the 'memory' represented, it was none of her business. She wanted Luna._

'I've chosen. So have Sirius.'

Wizard's expression lost any shred of tenderness.

_She'd had enough. It was time to get out._

'No, no, _cousin_,' Black said, copying her crooning. A menacing scowl mauled his handsome features. His dark eyes glinted like wet river stones. 'Don't be so hasty to dismiss this argument.' A manic smile bloomed on his lips like a deadly fungus.

_Out!_

'I'll have you both by my side, I swear it.'

The auditorium collapsed, memory dissolving. The echo of his vow was swallowed by the mist but its promise settled heavily in the pit of Pandora's stomach. Familiar dread enveloped her thoughts. Foreboding, she once lived with for so long, returned. Black's words were unimportant to Pandora, yet, the chilling delivery triggered an unforgiving recall of the moment that doomed her most treasured creation. The surrounding walls of the mist trembled from her frantic breaths. She struggled to contain them, sensing the impending possibly to fall right into _that_ memory.

Her anxiety spiked. The fog swirled around. Pandora stood in the eye of a typhoon.

_No, no. She refused to watch her mother die again._

'You know, there is a neat spell for that. Stapeln!'

_It was all gone. It was all in the past. It was all irrelevant. _

The fear only grew. Hideous cackle cut through, distant but no less horrifying. Screams followed. Violent shivers whacked Pandora's limbs.

'It's a charm, we learned with professor Flitwick in second year.'

_She had Luna. She sacrificed everything for her life._

A gale raged around her. Pandora refused to follow its call; listen to pleading and cries and that abysmal crowing; watch… _No!_

_Her life passed. She chose what to see, not the opposite!_

'Let's practice it and move up the years to determine the level of your proficiency in Charms.'

_She was a willing prisoner. She paid the price, however demanding, for her heart's desire. _

_She chose it! _

The fog trembled and stilled into the unmovable grey wall it always remained. Sounds disappeared; with them - remembrance. It became a limbo. _(It always was.) She could stay there and think of nothing for eternity._

'Okay, take out your wand.'

_Was it too much to ask to be kindly left in peace? Whoever was speaking had nothing to do in her memories. Noone had any right to change anything! Nothing needed to be changed!_

_(It did.)_

'I… misplaced it.' The familiar drawl trickled through the thinning mist, both loud and faint. Mirach's cadencing tones grounded Pandora, pulling her into a memory. Disoriented, she glanced around.

It was the library again. Hoard of books was neatly stacked in front of her. Beyond it, at the neighbouring table, Xeno droned on, words too soft to distinguish, oblivious to Pandora's absence, as was customary. The relocation wasn't even surprising anymore. Mirach brought her around quite a bit.

_(What was it this time?)_

The witch in question sat stiff next to her. Girl's profile was all sharp angles and long lashes. Porcelain skin glowed in the morning light, inky fingerprints all the more visible on the pale cheekbone. Mirach peeked her way from the corner of the eye, swallowing with a click.

'Okay!' The redhead across from them said with a rather forced beam, startling Pandora. 'Take mine!' She thrust her palm out, offering the wand.

The witch was no other than The Lily-Evans-On-Her-High-Horse who'd never come even remotely close to Pandora, Xeno or Iseult, commutes to the Great Hall included. She was The Lily Potter, whom the Prophet headlines gave the moniker of the Betrayed Muggle-Born Mother of the Boy who Defeated Him-Who-Must-Not-be-Named. In person, the redhead was lovelier than her picture in the newspaper. She was but a ghost, whom Pandora didn't get to meet.

'I would rather not,' Mirach said, studying the wand as if it was going to bite.

'It isn't dirty, just because I touched it!' Evans tossed it for greater effect. Mirach didn't so much as twitched when it bounced off of her chest with indignant sparks and clattered on the desk. The two engaged in a stare-off worthy of a Spaghetti Western.

'Take the wand,' Evans said through gritted teeth, yanking on the earring. Her earlobe was swollen and irritated. 'Forget your idiotic prejudice for one second.'

Mirach's expression emptied. A soft sigh escaped her. She made a show of reaching for the wand, not breaking the eye contact. 'I don't care about your blood,' she said carefully

Evans's jaw went slack. Pandora's, too, for that matter. _She had to be lying, hadn't she?_

'My pa-rents…' Mirach trailed off with a stifled moan. Her features crumpled in confusion and pain. The wand slipped from her fingers, as she rose clumsily. Drops of blood trailed from each nostril.

'I ap'l'gise,' she mumbled, rubbing the forehead. Grey curls stuck to her perspiring temples. Pandora observed, uncertain. Evans faired no better. 'I m'st go.'

Redhead shut her mouth with a click. 'No!' she cried, halting the witch. Not that it was necessary. Mirach was too busy smearing blood all over her upper lip with the back of the hand. Pandora was bashed with how much she acted like a child.

_She was one, wasn't she? _

_(What would've Luna been at her age?)_

'Let's start over?' Evans appeared both disgusted and patient with Mirach's antics. Indulgence won as the redhead sighed and shook her head. 'Sit and let me take care of that.'

Mirach hesitated, eyeing her blankly, but settled down, tense and silent. She didn't react to the quick tergeo. They sat there for a while. Pandora contemplated the books in front of her. It was extensive reading on topics ranging from Medieval History of Magic to Esoteric Method and Discipline of Kabbalah.

'What is the problem that you have in class?' Evans said, at last. Mirach's lashes fluttered and she turned away, shrugging. The back of her head was full of black curly locks without a hint of silver that dominated the front. Pandora didn't live long to get so much grey hair. _(What could've happened to one so young?)_

Evans blew out a long-suffering sigh. 'Show me? I'm here to help.' She leant on her elbows, sliding the wand towards Mirach. The witch grasped it, wetting the lips, but hesitated.

'Accio,' she said, pointing at the decorative pebbles on the windowsill without looking. Evans yelped when the whole pile zoomed for them and rattled on the table. Pandora reclined in surprise. The magic was too potent for a simple summoning charm.

Mirach studied the wand, unconcerned.

'Okay!' Evans whispered, sneaking furtive glances around. Pandora focused on Xeno, who either ignored them or couldn't notice anything new in the memory.

_It wasn't real. It wasn't from the beginning, because they were in her past. _

_(Was that right?)_

'Quite the spell. But maybe, next time, try calling only one stone.' She took back the wand, and sent the rocks back to their place. Mirach didn't comment.

The redhead carried on. 'You know, Professor Flitwick said once, that if you master the levitation charm, you can easily learn most of the spells. Mind you, not a single-object-levitation but making many things hover continuously at the same time. He used to stress it was the spell of ultimate control.'

Mirach's unimpressed mien lightened. The witch had a minor Eureka moment, regarding what Pandora couldn't tell. She didn't recall the lecture or the feel of magic. It's been so long since she thought of anything or anyone but Luna. Dejection arose like a wave and flooded her consciousness.

'Try on that quill?'

_She should've left._

'Okay, now make that take off slower.'

_Luna was waiting for her._

'That's still way too fast and high. I can't even see it now.'

_What was the point in watching these ghosts? They were gone, just as her life._

'Again.'

_Luna wasn't like them. (She was, too.)_

A mild explosion startled Pandora. Remains of the quill smoked on the table. Both witches stared at it; Mirach - composed, Evans - nonplussed. The redhead coughed waving the hand in front of her nose and took back the wand. Feather repaired itself but was singed at the edges.

_(Mirach should've met Iseult.)_

Pandora propped her chin on the hand. There was little harm in hanging around. She'd long stopped separating from her memory-self to explore. _It held no meaning. It still didn't, but she was curious. It was all in her head anyway. _

_(Was it?)_

'Grasp the wand tighter,' Evans said. She had a point, too. 'As it is, anyone could just snatch it from you.' Mirach swallowed and nodded. Her dainty fist was still loose, which Evans noticed with a frustrated sigh but decided to ignore. 'And when you say the spell, it's le-vi-o-sa, stressing the third syllable.' The redhead glanced at her empty wrist, then out of the window. The light changed. Noon must've been close. _It was the longest yet, Pandora spent without going to Luna._

'And you need to drop the drawl and say it fast and clear, like tha… What?!'

Mirach's eyes were huge and glazed over, nose bleeding again, this time strong enough to stain her robes. Evans grabbed the wand from the witch's limp hand and conjured a handkerchief.

_(Just what was it with the nosebleeds?)_

'Ron,' Mirach muttered in a daze, uncaring that Evans was literally wiping her nose. _The witch would've made a great mother. And she had, hadn't she, given her sacrifice for the Boy-Who-Lived? _Evans scowled and sighed in impatience, dropping the kerchief. It flopped on the table, soaked in red. Mirach didn't pay attention to the stained cloth or resentful glares. 'Ron,' she said, summoning a worn leather journal and a quill.

Evans gasped. 'That's wandless!'

Mirach silently opened the notebook in the middle, putting the name down slowly in shaky letters. Her penmanship was atrocious. Evans looked at it, comically appalled.

'You're left-handed like my sister!' she blurted in the next breath.

Pandora hissed, pulling away from the table. Mirach started and broke the quill. The witch slowly lifted her head, features shuttered into an empty mask. Smeared blood around the mouth sharply clashed with her pale complexion.

'You are _wrong_,' she lied with a straight face, voice hushed.

Pandora shivered from the realisation. _A Black with the Devil's mark. _

No pureblood would've ever been caught breaking the taboo if one was even born with such a curse. Iseult's ancestor burned on the stake for it. The prejudice lived for centuries. Whispers carried every Dark wizard or witch bore the mark of evil on their body and was left-handed.

_(When Bellatrix pointed her hideous wand at Pandora's mother, she held it in the right hand.)_

Image unfolded, swift and vivid, imprinting itself on her retinas. Her heart thudded and stuttered painfully, jumping to her throat. Pandora tasted bile and tears. She swallowed the awful tang of the memory, clasping hands over her ears to snuff out the atrocious cackle. She refused to watch or hear again.

_She chose the memories. She chose Luna._

Pandora sucked a breath in and forced herself to look up. Mirach stood by the table, observing her with an inscrutable mien. Evans sighed, jerking Pandora away from the heavy gaze. The scowling redhead flicked the wand and the stacks of books banished to the library cart nearby with an irritated pop.

Mirach stumbled back a bit. 'Thank you. Till tomorrow?'

'Sure, same time.' Evans nodded with vigour. Relief blossomed in every line of her body with Mirach's each slow step away.

'Different place. Classroom 234.'

Evans nodded again and collapsed on her folded arms, exhaling without restraint. Behind her, the table Pandora and Xeno shared was empty.

The memory continued. Tremor of apprehension passed through Pandora.

…

_Xeno left. _

_How was she still there?_

'What's that dodgy bigot doing?' Evans muttered, paying no mind to Pandora. She didn't see her. The girl packed the bag in one swish of a wand and rushed away.

Before she could think about it, Pandora followed.

No wispy wall rose to block the path. Her stride was unchallenged, free, like when she lived. Like when she chose. The steps she took had weight again. The counterweight flumped in the pit of her stomach, chilling the insides: a virus spreading through the blood until the entirety of Pandora was consumed.

_(She knew her life from start to finish.)_

_…_

_…_

_Did she dare? _

_…_

_Risk every choice she ever made to be undone?_

Evans jerked to the side and disappeared behind the corner. Pandora hurried to follow.

Her hands shook and heart pounded but the head was empty of any thought. It was a blissful state, mindless non-existence that often enveloped Pandora as a child before her turn to go upstage and play. The sensation laid long forgotten, hidden from sight even in her literal memory lane. The tingle of nostalgia morphed into the shiver of familiar alarm. Pandora froze on the spot, taking in the scene before her.

A gangly boy in Slytherin robes pushed Evans face-first into the wall, arm twisted behind her back. She yelped and writhed as he tried to disarm her. Four other vultures gathered around.

Lucinda Talkalot, the infamous Slytherin Quidditch Captan, stood regal, thin red lips mangled in an obscenely smug smirk. Behind her, a brunette brandished a wand, eager. Tilda Flint, the nasty Slytherin Prefect, pinned Mirach next to Evans, forearm on collarbones, towering over the short girl and oozing disdain. A tall blond with Flint ran deft fingers over Mirach's robes in obvious appreciation. Her beautiful profile was pleasant, smile - lovely and so unfit in the situation.

Mirach's face was blank, indicating nothing she could've felt about the maltreatment. She appeared to be not intimidated at all. Pandora breathed easier against the pulse thrashing in the cage of her chest, focusing on that projected calm. How the witch managed it, was both admirable and unsettling.

The lanky wizard finally wrestled the wand from Evans just as she began to shriek. He spun the redhead around, slamming her into the stone. The impact rendered the witch mute and blinking in a daze.

'Thank you, Perty,' said Talkalot, nearly purring in satisfaction. The wizard sneered, restraining Evans with one hand on the shoulder.

'Are you mad?!' she bellowed, regaining senses.

The impatient brunette stepped forward swooshing the wand to her jugular in a smooth arc. 'You'll be _quiet._' Evans gasped and nodded, blinking against the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. She peeked at Mirach.

'Leave the girl alone,' Evans whispered, swallowing with difficulty against the wand stabbing her. Flint sneered and rammed the forearm into Mirach's clavicle. Air escaped her in an 'oof', but otherwise, she stayed silent. Pandora tried to catch her attention, but Mirach's gaze was unfocused.

_They cursed her!_

Swallowing the terror her essence seemed to be made of, Pandora ran and pushed Flint away from the grey-haired witch. Rather, tried to. She made no contact. Momentum carried her forward and through both the Prefect and the fabric-obsessed blond until she tripped and fell, nose and right cheek barely missing the wall. No one noticed. It felt no different than sifting through the memory fog.

_She couldn't do anything, change anything. Why did she even try?_

She dissolved in bitter tears.

'Can't you tell, mudblood?' Talkalot said, unaware of her accompaniment. 'Black here wanted to join our fun, right?'

Pandora jerked upright, twisting the neck to see Mirach. Those bewitching glistening eyes peered down, connecting with hers. Pandora sighed in relief. _She was still seen._

Next to Mirach, Evans stared. Her expression fell apart revealing genuine hurt.

'Aww, mudblood thought she made a friend?' Talkalot's sickening voice dripped with sweetness.

The redhead schooled herself into a semblance of calm authority. 'What you're doing is against the rules!' she said, words firm and strong. Pandora had a fleeting thought of adulation, trying to stay in the moment. It was too much. The helplessness was reminiscent of another time, where she could also do nothing but watch. Pandora leapt to feet and stumbled back, resting against the wall, popping the knuckles in a habit that long died in her.

_She should've left. (She had to be sure Mirach made it out alright.) What for? _

'Rules don't apply to the likes of you, Evans.' Talkalot needled the witch's cheek, then demonstratively wiped the offending finger on the robes with a disgusted mien. Her demeanour switched to cold and cruel. 'This was long overdue and you _well know it_.'

The Slytherin nodded and the brunette trying to dig a hole into the redhead's neck unceremoniously grabbed her hand. Evans screamed and was silenced. She struggled to get away, panic clear in the tear-stricken pale face but the wizard held her by the shoulders, unyielding.

'Black, you better watch,' Flint jeered and knocked the girl's head to the left. It smacked against the stone with a 'twack'. Evans gasped and stilled, wrenching her head to the right. All Pandora could see from her spot was the redhead's searching gaze on Mirach. Nevertheless, she didn't dare to move. Her chest hurt from all the pounding her heart was performing.

Talkalot snapped when the pause stretched. 'Now, Doherty! Don't hesitate, the scum deserves it.'

Doherty pointed her wand at Evans's forearm but faltered, glancing up to scrutinise redhead's tearstained splotchy cheeks. The witches had history. Versions of their scandal circulated Hogwarts even after they graduated. Bigoted, possibly lecherous, pureblood Slytherin: nothing original in the decade before the Boy-Who-Lived against the spiteful muggle-born who didn't shy from using dirty rumours for revenge. Pandora couldn't care less for either of them.

Doherty sneered and stepped back. Talkalot positively glowered.

_Pandora wanted to leave. Luna's smiles and laughter were much more appealing than this._

_(But Mirach was still there.)_

_She couldn't do anything! She didn't want to do anything! This was non of her business. No one could even see her. _

_(Mirach saw!)_

Talkalot snarled. 'Travers!' The blond was at her side in three strides, wand at the ready, smile serene. Pandora squeezed her eyes cutting off the picture of a snake in a beautiful wrapping poised to strike. She'd witnessed enough of the same once.

'Black, this was a gift from one of your sisters. You might even know it.'

Pandora exhaled, ignoring the urge to look at Mirach. _It was time to leave._

'Bellatrix Lestrange,' Travers sang the name of the hateful witch as if it was a prayer. 'Persectum Rigor.'

Pandora gulped against the bile and hatred and terror that threatened to expel from her. The air stank of ozone. _She needed to leave. (Or she could stay and help Mirach!) She couldn't do anything! She had no wand, used no magic in years! (She could at least open her blasted eyes!)_

A deafening screech made Pandora snap out of it. Flint was swiping at her face and hair in a frenzy trying to fight off a flock of pecking birds. The other Slytherins gaped, Evans forgotten (the witch slid down the wall). Travers started to laugh. In the next breath, she was disarmed. The spell hit her with such force the blond flew along the corridor and collapsed in heap.

'I'll fucking kill you all!' Sirius Black appeared out of nowhere, looking as deranged as his future prison picture, and engaged in a violent duel against Talkalot and the Slytherin wizard. Pettigrew and the sickly Marauder-boy went at Doherty.

Pandora's legs gave out.

Mirach paid the fight no mind. She knelt in front of Evans, caressing the witch's messy hair. The girl bawled in silence, cheeks red and glistening, features crumbled in agony, mouth open and misshapen, no sound leaking from it. She cradled her right arm to her stomach. James Potter hovered above them pale, lost and pitiful.

'Oh, Lily,' Mirach said the name in a sweet croon. Evans fell forward, resting the forehead on the witch's shoulder. 'Let me see.' Mirach coaxed Lily to put the injured hand on her thighs. Straight clean laceration on the forearm was deep enough to glimpse the bone. It gushed with no blood and looked stiff around the edges, like a wound on a corpse. The sight was overfamiliar.

Pandora bit her palm to halt nausea.

'Fucking hell. We need to get Madam Pomfrey.' Potter's comment came out hoarse and strained.

Mirach ignored him, drawing the wand. She paused, furrowing the brows and exhaling long and shaky sigh. With a faint spark of a spell Evans had a voice. The redhead whimpered and sobbed, calling for her mom every other breath.

It was almost too much for Pandora. Yet, some morbid curiosity kept her… _in the memory? It changed nothing, after all._

'Lily,' Mirach whispered, pushing the girl gently to settle against the wall. 'Lily.' She wiped her tears slowly. It was no use: more fell with every shuddering breath and moan. 'Lily, I'll take it away.' Mirach's dark blue eyes glowed with resolve. She watched the crying girl with unwavering focus. 'It was a dark spell… I have to use blood magic, Lily.'

'What!?' Potter cried. 'Out of the question!' The boy flopped on the floor and scooted to Lily's side. He jostled the girl and she cried out, head falling limp sideways on his arm. Potter froze.

Evans whimpered again and again. 'James…' she said, sobbing pathetically. 'M sorry… I-I-' Potter's frantic gaze found Mirach, imploring. He looked desperate as if every little distressed sound the witch made was excruciating to him. Mirach observed the pair of them with a wistful wonder. A drop of red trailed from her nostril. Her temple was bleeding as well.

Further along the corridor, somewhere amidst the many flashes of the flying curses, Sirius Black roared something unintelligible.

Mirach blinked. 'Lily, I can help. I promise no harm. Only relief. Do you consent?'

Evans was nodding before the sentence was finished, sobbing without a pause. She was in no state to form any coherent reply. Potter squared his jaw and embraced the redhead, who melted into his side. He sniffed and swallowed, eyelids reddening, jaws working. 'Swear, it's safe for her!' he demanded, fierce.

'I swear,' Mirach said at once. She smeared the blood at her temple with two fingers and drew four wavy lines on Evans's forearm: two at the crook of the elbow, where the cut began and two at the wrist. Her wand was pale fawn and intricately carved along the length. Mirach hesitated, pointing it at the cursed area. She licked her lips and exhaled a shaky breath.

'You… found… your wand,' Evans whispered between the sobs into Potter's shoulder.

Mirach's gaze snapped to hers. She managed a rueful smile, but it fell away as her expression contorted in an angry perturbation.

'I swear on my magic no harm will come to you from me,' she said slowly, eyes flickering to Potter. The boy gaped. Pandora, too. Oaths like that were dangerous. Mirach's lashes flattered from the magic that swirled around them. She pursed her lips, transferred the wand to her left hand and clasped Evans's wrist with the right.

_Ah, of course. The bit of magic must've been too difficult to risk with the wrong hand._

Potter noticed the exchange, going stiff as a board. He stayed silent, observing like a hawk.

Mirach's wand grip was curious: tucked by the thumb into the open palm, the stick hovered above the cut, rather than pointed. Pale yellow spilt into Evans's forearm and Mirach gasped, eyes watering. Her grasp on the witch's wrist tightened. The wound and the blood slowly vanished, as if sipping into the skin. Evans sagged, unconscious.

'You swore!' Potter bellowed, frantically checking the girl over. Mirach wheezed, slumping backwards. Potter caught her by the right hand. She cried out making him let go.

Pandora scurried on her knees towards the limp girl. _She couldn't die! (She couldn't die!)_

Mirach was alive, stare glassy. Her lips moved but the noises that came out made little sense. There was shouting all around, the duel still raged. The mist thickened, shuddering with Pandora's every exhale, hiding everything from view, except for Mirach who blubbered gibberish. She touched the girl's cheek with shaky fingers.

_She was real. The memory, too._

_(The memory wasn't a memory.) _

_If that was true, Elpis set the price even crueller. No one saw or heard her! _

_(Mirach did!)_

_She passed through people, could touch no one!_

_(She touched Mirach!)_

_What was the point? Who cared about the ghosts of the past?_

_(And her own parents?)_

_What could she do?_

_(Talk to the witch!)_

'Hey,' Pandora said. Mirach kept muttering under her nose. Pandora moved closer to the witch's face, hovering, trying to catch her attention. Mirach's eyes were far-away, tears ran from the corners wetting the hair above the ears. Her pupils contracted and focused on Pandora.

'Luna,' the witch whispered.

The scene whited out in a painful burst of light.

_Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna)_

_(How did she know) Luna (Luna)? _

Pandora struggled to take a single breath, squinting against the bleached wall of mist. Ropes knotted around her chest, squeezing tighter with every beat of the pounding pulse. Her ears rang, thoughts raced so fast the mind couldn't comprehend them.

_Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna)_

_(Who was the girl?) There were only three Black witches in this generation, everyone knew that. (Pandora died and haunted her own memories, no one knew that.)_

_Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna)_

_Someone tampered with her head. (Or she went mad.)_

_Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna)_

_The memories were changing! What if those of Luna did, too? (The journey could become better. If she dared…)_

_Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna) Luna (Luna)_

_Risk every choice she ever made to be undone? Risk Luna's existence? _

'Momma, play!'

_Luna (Lu-na) Luna_

_Never Luna! There would be no changes! She'd never risk Luna!_

'Momma, play song!'

_Luna_

_She'd never let go!_

Her fingers danced across the piano keys. Notes rushed towards the ceiling, mixing with the pearls of Luna's laughter. Her sweet daughter bounced on her knees, waving wee fists in tact with the melody.

_How could she ever risk this? It may have been only memory but it was hers. She chose! No one got to take it from her!_

_She would never let it go._


	8. The Tower

Warning: expletives, violence.

* * *

8.

_The leaden weight of paralysed limbs_

_And lonesome empty sealed space_

_Mixed into loam where the image strived_

_Of merry prancing_

_In mind,_

_In body, after time._

_The faces came with names, the places - with the talks_

_And ebbed. The filly will remember; _

_I, on my own, would not._

_He speaks of thorny lot._

_For once, I'd rather let it slip away._

**Monday, December 6, 1976, 7:07am**

_Why? Oh, why was it always like this? _

_Why was it so difficult to get up right away? No 'five more minutes' which turned almost into two hours, for fuck's sake! And why did he have to serve detention before breakfast? Neither Prongs nor Padfoot ever scored the morning ones! It was so unfair! And now he was late and not gonna have time to eat before the first class. Fantastic! Five more minutes, his arse._

'E-ex-cuse me…'

_And why was it always him who got the Owlery? He'd even agree to switch with Sirius. Surely, cleaning the bathrooms (in the evening, dammit!) wasn't any worse than shovelling bird shit. And Quidditch ban couldn't bother someone who didn't play._

'Ahem.'

_Remus got an early moon, the poor bastard. That he didn't envy in the least. Moony had to wait alone until they could join him at night._

'Ahem! Excuse me.'

_Changing with Prongs would've been ideal, though. To polish some dusty candelabras in a room that didn't stink of the foulest waste… And James wasn't suspended from the team. How Padfoot bemoaned, ha! ('Yes, Prongs didn't duel the Snakes but - still! - he was there, surely you can see that, Wormtail! It's so unfair!') McGonagall even allowed James to Hogsmeade. Eh, to be a Potter… Unfair, indeed. _

'Xcuse me! _You_-!'

He jerked, breaking eye contact with the floor, and spun around. A pink-cheeked witch with blue and bronze scarf froze. Her expression shifted from annoyed to embarrassed.

'Hi! Uh.'

Behind the girl, two other Ravenclaws whispered and giggled, throwing inconspicuous glances his way. In an empty corridor.

'You are Peter Pettigrew, right?'

He nodded, straightening to his full height. The girl was half a head taller. Peter sighed in irritation. _Could anyone but the first-years be shorter than him?_

'Great! Could you pass this to Sirius Black for me?'

The bird all but threw an envelope at him. It was pink and reeked of gingerbread, his gran's powder and wet dust. Peter wanted to rip the seal and read the note there and then. _The witch didn't waste time._

'Hey! Do _not_ open! It's for Sirius Black, okay? You _are_ his friend, aren't you?'

She was quite pretty: dark brown eyes and long lashes, cheeks round and blushing, button nose, plump lips_. Too bad she was so darn tall._

Peter cleared his throat. 'Yeah, we're mates.'

'Pass it to him, will you? To Sirius Black, did you get that?'

_Oh, he got it alright._ Peter dragged the uppity twat by the hay she called hair until she screamed apologies.

'Did ya get it?!'

He blinked, forced back to reality of watching her stupid face. 'f course.'

'Thanks! You're sweet!' The witch had the grace to smile, at least. She bounced off, swarmed by her friends. _Sweet, his arse. _Peter cringed at the stinky letter and stuffed it into his pocket. _Padfoot's fans were becoming rather creative._

'What are you doing?'

Peter flinched at Filch's cantankerous tone. _Fuckety-fuck! _'Nothing! I was just going to meet you at the Owlery!'

Suspicious beady eyes squinted at him.

'A likely story!' the ugly bugger shouted, latching onto the scruff of his robes and pulling Peter along the corridor. 'You are an hour late! Skiving off! Isn't that how you young lazy folk call it, eh? Some hard work and pain would do you good, oh yes… I will speak to the Headmaster, you'll see… A few days hanging by the wrists and the duelling in the hallways will all but cease, if you ask me… Move along now. I dare you to try to run off again. It'll only get worse.'

Filch let go of Peter's collar once they reached the yard of the West Tower. Outside was colder than in the heart of his father's second ex-wife. Snow glowed in the gloomy darkness of the morning. The chilling wind sneaked under his winter robes. Peter tripped every other step because the nasty sadist kept nudging him between the shoulder blades all the way to the blasted bird-shit sanctuary.

'There you go!' Filch said, pushing him inside the Owlery and pointing at the shovel in the corner. 'All yours now. Hurry up and get to work! And no funky magic tricks, you hear me! Bet you'll think twice before breaking the school rules again, won't you?'

Peter grabbed the utensil and struck Filch across his ugly-arse face. The resulting crack was both sickening and gratifying. With a blink, the fantasy melted away.

The caretaker hobbled outside, muttering nonsense under his breath. 'Hard work and, better yet, pain, eh! The best teachers, oh yes…'

'What an arsehole,' Peter whispered, sighing in relief when the door shut. His breaths came out in small clouds of white mist. He shivered and looked around.

The owls produced no more waste than the usual. 'Missed me, you little wieners?' Several birds screeched. One flew, landing on his shoulder. Feathers flopped him on the cheek. The talons gently poked his skin. 'Hermes, little buddy, come on, get off.' The owl refused, having found a perfect perch. 'If you shit on me again I swear to Merlin I'll roast your feathery arse.' Hermes hooted.

The work was mind-numbing and familiar. Peter cleaned, hoping someone would come and send a secret note or learn a terrible truth about their long-lost twin from a letter sent by a father, presumed dead. _Or anything to take him away from the shitty task!_

Snivellus stormed inside.

_Okay, anything but that!_

The Slytherin obliviously stalked towards the staircase. Peter exhaled as quietly as possible and stepped further into the shadowed piles of droppings. The stench was rank.

Snape attached a letter on the bird's leg and whispered destination, glancing around. Peter crossed the fingers. His heart shuddered painfully in his chest and throat, amplified by the silence and the lack of fresh air. Peter blinked through the white specs in his vision, barely containing a sigh when Snivellus finally decided to leave. _A moment in such company was already too long. _

The unpleasant encounter could've ended peacefully for all parties. Peter would've even finished the shitty assignment without further complaint. _But! Always, there was a but, innit?_

A Hufflepuff lass rushed inside the tower at the same time Snivellus was buggering off and the two met in the middle. The girl shrieked as they collided. Peter would have, too, if he had to touch Snape so intimately.

_Should he transform while they untangled from one another? The owls would hunt a rat but a quick death might've been preferable to accidentally getting caught in a crossfire against Snape without his friends. He sucked at Defence!_

'Look where you're going, you foolish twit! And get your filthy mitts off!'

_Ha! Mitts! Off! _Snape was such a prude. The Hufflepuff was gorgeous: dark lustrous curls, olive skin, flashing eyes. The glower slightly spoiled the view but wasn't critical.

'Give that _back_!' The witch lunged at Snape. Her mien was scarier than McGonagall's when the professor found them in the hallway fighting the Slytherins while Sirius's cousin mumbled nonsense (about Bella Luna and Nut or something) on the floor and James perved on the unconscious Evans.

A fantasy bloomed, boosted by the live performance. The girl, _a Valkyrie_, trashed Snape to bits like a wild beast. In reality, Snivellus danced smoothly away from his impending doom. _The snake had moves!_

'Why's that? Have something to hide?'

Snape wasn't a very smart fella. He went and taunted the Valkyrie. _Who did that?_

'None of your business! Give it _back_!'

_Perhaps, Peter misnamed the girl. She may have charged with an abandon but the power of that screech!_ The Valkyrie, _rather the Siren_ wrestled with Snape. The struggle for a scrap of paper was impressive. Snivelus's sleeve ripped with an obscenely loud noise. He shoved the Siren to the ground.

'Look what you've done, you daft girl!'

Peter rolled his eyes. _The dude had magic, hadn't he? _Snape drew the wand. The menacing scowl was an overkill for a piece of torn fabric.

'Stay down or I'll teach you a lesson with my wand.'

_A lesson with his what now? _Peter slapped the palms over his mouth to silence a hysterical giggle. Luckily, the Siren kept loudly demanding her top-secret letter back.

'I will curse you if you don't stay down!'

'No! Give it to me! Or I'll scream!'

_What was she doing before, then?_

'And who is going to hear you?'

_Goodness but Snivellus was nasty. If only he could change the course of the rivers. But shite would do. What did Flitwick squeak about? Swish and flick…_

_Please, sweet mother of Circe, don't let him screw up._

'Wingardium Leviosa!'

Ultimately, it was not his best move. The bird waste leviosaed alright. While Peter was knee-deep in it. He barely held back from vomiting on his robes. _How gross. _Snivellus and the Syren evidently shared the sentiment. Even though Snape was the one who got doused, the witch's face twisted in such a grimace his gran, had she lived, would've warned that it could get stuck that way. Peter dismissed the thought and ran to the girl.

'Come on! We gotta get out of here!'

'No! The letter! I have to send it now!'

The Syren jerked away from him to dive into shit. _Okay but that one hurt._

'Where is it? Where-! Where is it!?' she chanted, digging though the smelly mountain.

_Sweet Merlin._

'Woman, have you magic or not?!' he screamed. 'Accio stupid letter!'

The envelope broke through the droppings and flew to him, shitty and utterly empty. The Syren snatched it faster than his dad ran from an argument. _What was she doing sending empty envelopes?_

Snivellus sat up. The mountain exploded around him, splattering poop all over the walls of the Owlery. _How was he going to clean that?_

'Pettigrew!' Snape's voice was more of a snake's hiss. 'You're going to pay for this.'

Luckily, the wizard had to search for his wand. Unluckily, Peter sucked at defence. _How did Professor Belby teach them last year? Stab and flick. Please, by the sacred lacy knickers of Circe, don't let him botch it!_

'Stupefy!' Snape collapsed. _Pity, there was no time for a victory dance. _'Come on, you idiot witch! We hafta _go_!' The Syren ignored his desperate calls. The Slytherin was already stirring and groaning like a bear awoken from hibernation in a pile of shit. He was looking for his wand in no time. Peter's chances to get thoroughly cursed rose exponentially.

_Why, oh why?_

'Trulla Ledo!' The stupid shovel didn't move. It was charmed resistant to magic by McGonagall., which he forgot. _Shite! What else?_

'Bubonibus Morsus!' Only three of the feathery wieners answered the command to peck Snape. It didn't derail the bugger. Snape excelled at the ancient defensive technique of excessive hand-waving. He produced an impressively verbose string of curses while he did it as well. Peter paused mid-charm in respectful awe.

'Ha!' Snivellus shouted, zeroing on his wand.

_Right! _

'Accio Snape's wand!'

This idea wasn't his best either. With the wand came its owner. Snape's lovely face could only compare to Medusa's for all it even managed to turn Peter into stone. He unfroze at the last moment and ducked under the Slytherin's tackle, throwing both wands in the corner. _Better far away than cursed._

The Syren rushed by in a twirl of yellow-cuffed robes without a second glance. _What a bitch!_

Snape didn't care for his wand or the girl, who started the whole mess. He yanked on Peter's collar, bashing his poor head on the wooden floor._ At least, it was relatively soft._

'I got you, you nasty little bugger! No Potter, Black or Lupin to hide behind and titter anymore!'

They rolled around, kicking every reachable part of each other. It could've been fun if Snape pulled his punches. _The arsehole. _Peter choked on blood from his split lip and spat it out. Snivellus's eyes weren't the aim but he took the opening and shoved the snake off. The wands were somewhere on the other side of the Owlery. The exit loomed close, promising sweet relief. His choice was obvious.

A gust of cold air struck him in the flushed cheeks and throbbing lips. Peter tripped and nearly fell in the snow.

'Where do you think you're going!?' Snape bellowed from behind.

'Sod off, Snivellus!'

'You stupid coward!'

'Better cower than hafta touch your manky self even for a fight!'

'You're not getting away, Pettigrew!'

'Yeah? Watch me run for it!'

Peter made a mistake glancing over his shoulder. A snowball hit him square between the brows. _And it hurt like a bitch!_

'Ha!' Snape yelled and hurled another ball. It walloped Peter in the ear. A freezing blob got inside his robes _and_ the sweater, chilling his toasty shoulder.

'Fuck!' Peter screamed, snatching the snow from the ground, compressing it as tightly as possible and flinging at Snape's idiotic face.

Had someone said that he would ever engage in a snow fight with Snivellus of all people, Peter would've cackled, Padfoot style. Alas, it happened and he didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream in horror. The worst part was that Snape seemed to unwittingly relish it as well. After a while, they ended up tangled in another exchange of flailing punches. The Slytherin came out on top. _Literally._

Even more than a snow fight, Snivellus seemed to enjoy squeezing the life out of him. Peter writhed, trying to dislodge the tightening choke-hold. The Slytherin's expression twisted with insidious glee.

'Leggo,' Peter said through a wheeze. Black spots bloomed in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't move his hands, pinned by Snape's knees. His brain felt swollen, the pulse throbbed unpleasantly in the ears, tears leaked from the eyes that were being pushed out of their sockets by the pressure. He tried to gasp to no avail. _He couldn't breathe!_ Terrible fright hit Peter like an avalanche, piercing and devouring.

_Snape wouldn't kill him, would he?_

'That's right Pettigrew, you should be afraid of me.'

'You maggot. Leggo, leggo!' _He couldn't breathe! He couldn't breathe!_

'It'll teach you how to laugh at me.'

The unrelenting wave of dread mutated into an outright terror and panic. _He was going to die! It was no joke anymore!_ Peter thrashed with a renewed vigour. He managed to dislodge Snape's knees from his arms and smashed the bugger everywhere he could reach. It was no use. The Slytherin didn't budge. Peter searched his robes with the increasingly sluggish hands. _There must've been something!_

A paper creased and ripped in his clawed fist. Peter thrust it into Snape's nose, hoping to distract him. The snake's death-hold slacked. Peter sucked in the air and rolled to the side, coughing and dry heaving. His stomach was empty which made nausea both more tolerable and painful. His neck throbbed and constricted, the fantom spidery fingers still digging into the flesh. His hands shook with heavy tremors, barely supporting him. Darkness fuzzed the edges of sight, tunnelling surroundings into a singular window of nonsensical white matter. All sounds mixed into an irritating chime, the kind that came from the old clocks his mother liked to hoard. Peter tasted iron on the gums. Sickness overcame him again as the tide of blind terror ebbed. The white matter was freezing under his cheek.

'What the fuck, Snape!?' Peter tried to shout. A weak croak could do no justice his indignation. 'You barmy motherfucking arsemonger! Were you trying to _kill_ me?'

The Slytherin didn't reply.

Peter gasped more greedy breaths. His vision sharpened. Snow burned the tender skin of his temple. He sat up.

Snivellus was kneeling, features slack. His fingers kneaded a pink paper. He brought it close to his face, sniffed, _(which… eww!) w_ild eyes flying across the text, and put it down on an exhale. Peter shuddered. Snape's wistful expressions and sighs were the last things he ever wished to witness.

Peter rose. Anger surged through his veins in a steady rush of need for retaliation.

'You tried to fucking _choke_ me!' he hollered and kicked Snape in his stupid nose. It gave with a satisfying crunch and gushed with blood. Snivellus yelped, collapsing.

Peter blinked. The scene didn't rewind. He stood above the moaning mess of a wizard. He truly smashed his heel into someone's clock. Heady warmth and vicious gratification swelled in his gut. _Was this how James felt after a duel won? He could get used to it._

In a happy daze, Peter swaggered back to the Owlery. His wand was in the corner. Feeling daring and strong, he waved it completing his detention task with a single swipe. _As if Filch or McGonagall would ever find out._ Clear of the mess, Snape's wand laid at his feet. _He could go and curse Snivellus into the next week. Or he could snap it._ His mind played both actions on a loop. A shriek from outside jerked Peter from the daydream.

'Severus!' a witch yelled. 'What happened to you!?'

_Fuck! _

He snuck to the exit and peeked. Lily Evans knelt before Snivellus, fussing over his bloody nose.

'Sev! Who did this?'

_Snape was going to grass! _

But the Slytherin didn't. 'Lily!' he said. 'I can't stop thinking about her!'

'Wha-'

'I don't think I can stand it!'

'What are you talking about, Sev?!' Evans yelled, shaking him.

'You wouldn't understand… She even knows I exist…' he said, waving the pink paper in front of her nose.

'Oh, dear Lord, I think you've got a concussion! Who are you talking about?'

'Evelyn Pickering…'

The redhead gaped, mouth ajar, eyes bulging. No doubt, Snivellus was making the gross face again. Peter snorted and hid when Evans's head snapped up.

_Fuck! _

'Okay…' she said. 'Just wait there a moment.' _Her voice was getting closer! What could he do? What could he do!?_

Peter blew the air he didn't notice he was holding and transformed. The bleeding wand landed next to him, huge and very much separated from his rat form._ How did James take it with him?_

There was a swoosh and a screech and a thud. _The bleeding owls! _Wormtail bit into the wood and ran like never before in his life. He darted between Evans's feet. She squeaked and flopped on her bottom. Peter had no time to giggle. With a stream of expletives which in Rat sounded like a squeaking chatter, Wormtail bolted across the snowy yard, lunging in zig-zags every time he heard another swoosh. Which happened every leap he took. _Just how many wieners were after him?_

Wormtail considered briefly hiding in Snape's lap. 'Evelyn…' the wizard said and voiced an embarrassingly yearning moan. Peter dismissed the idea with a hiss as he dashed past. _Better be an owl's breakfast._

The entrance to the castle loomed ahead. The heavy wooden doors were closed.

_Fuckkk!_

Wormtail chattered more insults, jumping in circles to avoid the sharp claws. He spotted a drainpipe, squealed in delight and dove in. The opening was just right to fit with the wand between the teeth but soon enough Peter found that he couldn't slow his fall down the pipe. He tried to scramble against the sleek walls without success. His wand stuck on a piece of jagged metal and splintered, digging painfully in the seams of his mouth. Wormtail cried out and let go of it. He gained velocity as the slide became steeper and steeper. Terror was a distant but constant pulse in his little heart. He guessed rats didn't experience feelings with the same intensity as humans.

_He was going to die in a pipe. Or smash into the ground on the harsh exit. His rat body would become food for Mrs. Norris. _

_Would he turn human upon death? At least, he got to kick Snape in his pig-ugly nose once! James would've been proud._

_He'd be with gran. Would his dad even care? Mom wouldn't, she's got her stupid hoard._

_…_

_Fucking Snivellus._

Wormtail didn't want his last thoughts to be of Snape. But as he plummeted through the black narrow tunnel he couldn't _not_ blame the snake. _And that Hufflepuff bitch._

He shot out of the pipe, prepared to slam into the stone floor but ended up bouncing against a soft surface. The mattress he landed on was covered with a soft red and gold kilt. The room was huge with several open windows and bookcases. The air was fresh, faintly smelling of catnip and lilies.

'Please give me a moment, Valerie,' someone said with a familiar burr. Wormtail panicked sneaking under the bed. A smooth expanse of stone slid to the side and in walked McGonagall.

_Circe's revered left tit! What luck!_

The Head of his House went to a bookcase none the wiser. He shot towards the exit as quietly as possible. The bedroom was connected to McGonagall's office as many Gryffindors bid on. _Padfoot owed him ten galleons. _At the table by the window stood a woman in dark green robes smelling a lily that bloomed in the vase. The door was closed. Wormtail darted to a shadowed corner.

Someone knocked.

'Come in,' the witch in green said and turned.

Sirius's cousin ambled inside. The bleeding door shut after her with a click.

'Professor McGonagall, forgive the early visit,' the girl said slowly, offering a scroll to the witch. She took it with a dubious smile and opened her mouth but Black kept talking. 'I have finished the essay for the extra credit and wanted to submit it in person. Also, I would like to thank you for giving me the chance to catch up on my wandwork before you gave your assessment to the Headmaster. I understand your position on my placement and appreciate the concern.'

Each word of Black's speech was articulated with precision. Her gaze bore into the recipient's eyes with earnest gratitude. How she could've missed that the witch in green wasn't McGonagall Peter didn't comprehend. Yes, the woman had similar hairstyle and wore glasses but everything else was starkly different.

'Ahh, umm, my dear, I am professor Villeneuve. Professor McGonagall should be here shortly.'

Black's expression emptied. Silently she stared at the witch for a few moments, blinking. It was impossible to say what played in her mind.

Black sucked in a breath. 'I ap'l'gise. I would 'ppreciate… if you passed this scroll to Professor McGonagall.' She turned and strolled out. Wormtail darted through the closing gap and bolted down the corridor keeping to the walls. He spotted an alcove ahead. Finally, he could transform back. Being a rat for too long without his friends gave him anxiety.

The reek of bird-shit and sewage filled the musty air behind the tapestry. Peter couldn't hold back the dry-heaves. A violent coughing fit followed. His throat and lip ached, eyes were leaking and he couldn't breathe. Peter threw the heavy drapery open and stumbled into the hallway.

'Pettigrew!' chocking on a gasp, Peter hastily straightened at Professor McGonagall's sharp tone.

'If my memory doesn't betray me, you are to be predicting someone's demise in Divination classroom in ten minutes,' she said, pursing the lips so hard they turned all wrinkly and white. _Bad sign. Hallowed Circe's stockings, why him?_ Peter gulped down a lump in the back of his tongue and nodded.

'Why are you on the first floor? Where is your hat _again, _might I add? And in what exactly did you roll to be that filthy?' she said, sniffed the air and recoiled with disgust. 'And what is that _foul stench_?'

Peter wet his lips and gagged at the taste, wiping his mouth with a sleeve. Not that it was much cleaner.

'Well?' Professor McGonagall said tartly.

'I… uhh, got lost?'

'Shall I turn you into a map or, perhaps, a bathtub? You will sort yourself at once! Shall I hear from Professor Peidus that you have not attended his class today you will serve detentions with me personally until the end of the year! You have been warned, Pettigrew.'

'Yes, ma'am,' Peter said, nodding frantically, and stepped aside to let the witch pass. She didn't move, watching him with an arched brow.

'Well, what are you waiting for? Clean up and run along.'

_Circe's holy pinkies. _Peter cleared his throat. 'I- I broke my wand, Professor.'

'Does your foolishness know no bounds?' she said sharply, drawing her wand. He couldn't help but flinch at the sting of the cleansing spell. 'I will have words about your behaviour with your parents. Off you go, now!'

Peter hurried to the staircase, groaning inwardly about the unfairness of everything.

_The route to the North Tower was endless! His broken wand was stuck somewhere in the pipes! McGonagall couldn't just leave him alone!_

_She would have words with his parents… Ha! Good luck with getting a letter out of his mom. And dad… Would dad still care about him? Rumour said he's got a new wife and a baby. _Peter shook his head. _Dad promised they were going to spend time together this summer. They'd go to Kent and start renovations on the cottage. His cottage… He wouldn't have to live in that garbage dump ever again._

Sharp incense smoke, sipping through the open door, made Peter sneeze.

'Ah, Mister Pettigrew, do come in. Share with us your insight. Please, the first thing that comes to mind.'

_Peidus and his superstitious nonsense. _Peter coughed in his fist, glad he rehearsed before the mirror in case he ever was late for Divination.

'The answer is in the asking. We live and breathe, sacrificing the present for the future. We shall embrace the spirit of whimsy, for no-one is safe from their own soiled undergarments!'

The classroom replied with a few snorts and yawns. So far, Peter's prediction garnered more support than Baethan Stebbins's last week. _Admittedly, the Hufflepuff was always late. On Wednesdays. After lunch. When everyone was awake._

_Or his line was boring. Well, whatever._

'Splendid! Do take your sit. Your partner was getting lonely,' Professor Peidus said and turned to Marlene. 'Miss McKinnon, I believe the universe itself gave you the answer.' The witch snorted, rolled her eyes and returned to glaring at Peter. He sent her a sour grimace.

'Now! You well know the ritual. Swear no ill will, shuffle, cut the deck and draw. You may begin. Yes, Mister Wilkes, you will have to endure my expertise. Mister Snape must be facing a terrible trial this morning.'

_A trial of bird shite and a heel in the face._ Peter bit his lips to keep from tittering and tasted iron on his teeth. The cut bled again.

Kellaway was already picking his cards.

'I was supposed to cut it, you wanker,' Peter said, settling down.

'Nah, Pettigrew, I'm so gonna predict your gruesome demise.'

He drew the Ten of Cups.

'Nice!' Peter pumped up the air. 'If only your readings ever reflected reality.'

Kellaway ignored him, flipping through the book in search for the card's meaning.

'Blah-blah, another of the most uplifting draws. Nya-nya, live in the moment, seize the day. You know this all. Now you do mine.' Kellaway shut the heavy tome with a loud thump and pushed the deck across the table.

'Arse,' Peter said, shuffling. He let his partner cut and started the three-card spread. 'Hmm, in the past you have reversed Nine of Wands. You were freaking out about something.'

Kellaway met his inquisitive glance with a shrug and a lazy smirk.

'I didn't know who I liked better, Vance or Kirke's little sister.'

Peter snickered. _More like, the angry librarian or the Slytherin's best duelist. _'Sure. Eight of Pentacles for your present. You have to work hard, Darcy. Good grief! With all the slack you have to pick up I won't be surprised if you failed every subject.'

Kellaway kicked him in the shin. Peter winced and rubbed the throbbing spot with the other leg. 'Mind your own damn records, _Petey,_' he said. 'What's in my future, then? Pretty bird with a blade, just my taste.'

'Reversed Queen. A woman in your life who you shouldn't cross.'

'Ahh, so many possible suspects.'

Peter collected the cards and shuffled the deck. His palms grew sweaty, the heart jumped into his mouth. He drew two cards and cleared his throat.

'Say-' Peter had to swallow to hide a croak. 'Say, Darcy, did your mother get my letter?'

Kellaway lunged suddenly and gabbed him by the front of the robes. The deck slipped to the floor from his shaky fingers.

'You call me Darcy _one more time_ and I'll fecken end you, got it?' Peter nodded. Kellaway let go and patted his cheek twice. 'Peter, Peter, threaten you a bit and all fight leaves you in a _whoosh_.' He sat back, smugly lounging in his armchair. 'My mom wants nothing to do with you or your disgusting pig of a father.'

Peter clenched his jaws against the onslaught of raging hatred. _Who did he think he was with his stupid name and annoying attitude!_

'Fuck _you_! And your stupid filthy whore of a mother! She stole my dad from me! You stole him from me! The two of you had the time of your life kicking me about, sneering and spitting venom. He left you too now, and you fucking deserved it! I'll make sure you get nothing out of it! Ever!'

Kellaway gave no reaction.

_Oh._

_… _

_He replied in his mind again._

'Got something to say, Pete?'

He shook the head, swallowing the resentment and hot-coaled anger, and tapped his pockets. _A cold dish would serve Kellaway better._

'The Farewell Feast before the Holidays. Don't touch the eggnog.'

Kellaway grinned as if in victory. Peter imagined slamming the munky smirk into the glass table between them until it gushed with blood. 'You'll speak to her for me?' he said instead, offering a candy.

Peidus dismissed the class, assigning homework and warning them about the dangers of foresight.

'Can't promise anything, Pettigrew,' Kellaway said and unwrapped the sweet, popping it into his mouth. 'Wassat, then? Scrummy!'

'A special recipe. In reconciliation.'

'Sure thing.'

Peter stayed behind to clean up his mess. All deck was face up safe for one card. He turned it. The Tower mocked him.

The long way to the dungeons was at least unhurried. Peidus gave plenty of extra time for them to get to another class. He still was nearly late. Potions were as eventful as usual. James yawned every five seconds, Sirius sat brooding about something. Slughorn forgot to reprimand those who forgot their hats. Peter had to share the station with Snape's partner which sucked. Wilkes was as dumb as he was ugly. Rumour was his detention included following the groundskeeper in a Forbidden forest at night. _Unlucky sod._ Peter offered him candy as well.

_Shoulda better threw him away together with the four snake-bitches, who attacked Evans and Sirius's cousin, what's her name again. But no, they got scot-free. _Peter peeked at the Slytherin bints. _Detention was too little a price for a vicious attack even if no visible wound appeared on Evans._

Rosamund Travers as if felt his gaze. She met his eyes and beamed like a little sun. _Such beauty, such villainy._ Flint joined her with a sneer, Talkalot - a crude gesture (_pureblood manners, his arse_), Doherty - disinterest.

_Bitches. Had he a wand he would've cursed their stupid potion._

_Shite_

_…_

_The wand._

The lunch finally came and he couldn't stop the mounting dread. _What was he going to do about the wand?_

'Merlin, Peter, can you stop shoving food in your gob like it's the last time you eat?' Padfoot said, poking his lunch with no enthusiasm.

'Wha-? 'M hungry.' A piece of potato mush fell out of his mouth on his robe.

James clapped Sirius on the shoulder, waving a banger around on his fork. The sauce splatted in the middle of the table between them. 'Worry not, Wormtail. I support no table manners as well.'

Peter snorted, wiping his lips. _Speaking of support…_

'Ya know-'

'Mirach's got a friend,' Sirius said, glaring someplace behind him. James followed Padfoot's glance. Peter rolled his eyes. He was tired of their obsession with the witch.

'That's Jordan's bird, innit?' Prongs said. Sirius grunted in reply.

'Ya know how this morning I had detention-' Someone's cough from behind interrupted him.

'Pettigrew,' Professor McGonagall said. Peter straightened in his seat and turned around. The nerves gripped his hands and they shook, spilling the pumpkin juice. He had to hastily put the goblet down. Professor studied him with severe disapproval. 'Please follow me to my office.' She walked ahead.

'What's this all about?' James said. Sirius never lost focus on his cousin.

'I was just about to tell you-'

'Pettigrew! Now if it pleases you.'

_It didn't. _'Of course, Professor,' Peter said and made scary eyes at Prongs, who grinned back.

Their walk was strained with an uneasy silence. Peter chewed on his nail, thinking of all possible offends he could've committed. _Did she find out he used magic in the Owlery? _

Professor ushered him inside in her usual brisk manner.

'You appear to have a free period before the Herbology class, is that correct?' Peter nodded, swallowing. _Was she going to make him clean something? _'I have contacted your father and he shall arrive shortly to accompany you to purchase a new wand.'

Peter gaped. _His father? _He couldn't stop a squeak and a smile. 'Thank you very much, Professor!'

She shook her head in exasperation.

'Make certain you return by quarter past two sharp. The groundskeeper Hagrid will meet you at the gate. Good luck.'

'Yes, ma'am! Thank you, ma'am!' he said, bouncing on the heels, helpless against the overwhelming rush of joy. _He'd see his dad!_

As the door closed after Professor McGonagall, the fireplace roared green and Joseph Pettigrew stepped through - grin, immaculate robes and all.

'Da!' Peter shouted, throwing himself into his father's embrace. A rumble of laughter under his ear was a heavenly lullaby. The arms around him were strong and secure, the hug - the safest he ever felt. Even You-Know-Who wasn't as scary in his father's embrace.

'Aren't you a bit too old for cuddles?' Peter shook the head and looked up, beaming. His father chuckled, messing his hair. 'Ready?'

The Diagon Alley changed drastically in the few months he hadn't visited. Many shops were closed, one - burnt to the ground. The Daily Prophet reported a potion accident, but everyone knew the owner of the Apothecary was a Muggle-born. Christmas decorations appeared scarce, the atmosphere was sombre. The gloom and cold seeped in the very stones of the buildings. Peter clang to his father's side, anxious.

Ollivander, on the other hand, didn't change one bit. Peter was certain the barmy wizard looked exactly the same as five years ago. The new wand fit nicely in his palm, made from the mischievous Dogwood, with the core of the dragon heartstring. His da clapped him on the back with a proud smile. The day was only getting better.

They stopped at the new ice cream parlour. Peter chattered about his classes, about James and Sirius and Remus, about the Hogwarts gossip. His dad nodded and shook his head and laughed at the ice cream that splatted on the table off of his spoon during one of the exited hand waves.

'I can't _wait_ for summer, da!' Peter said, joggling the feet under the table. 'We'd make the house look _wicked_!'

'Yes, yes, Peter. Lizzy already made the arrangements. We'll start right after you take off from Hogwarts Express if you'd like.' He laughed.

Peter didn't feel like laughing. The steady flame of contentment was doused with a slimy sense of foreboding.

'Lizzy?'

'Ah, yes. Such a lovely woman, you will adore each other.'

_Yeah, without a doubt._

'She- she'll be helping us?' _Why was his voice so faint? Why couldn't he say he didn't want anyone there but the two of them?_

'But of course! We're all planning to move in. The baby is well on the way. You are going to have a baby brother, Peter.' His dad's face softened in a tender expression of wonder. _As if he never had a son before…_

Crushing weight of resentment and disappointment chased away Peter's appetite.

'You said it was going to be my house.'

The icecream was melting into an unappetising puddle in the cup.

'Yes, of course. And we will live there together as a family.'

It was supposed to be his space, his inheritance. Dad promised, _he promised! _Peter's throat clogged, his eyes stung._ He was going to cry like a ninny._

'I need to- loo, I'm going to the loo,' he said and all but run. The bathroom mirror offered advice how to treat… Peter cursed the bugger silent, not bothering to let it finish. He washed his face and practised the convincing smiles. The act was familiar as was the hurt it produced in his chest.

'Peter? It's time to leave. Your Professor didn't seem like a woman to cross.'

'Yes, da!'

They apparated to the gate and it was time. Peter crushed his father in a hug. When he was younger he wanted to live under his skin, to never be apart again. Little changed since.

'Why don't you choose me for once? We don't need anyone, just you and me, father and son. How long I wanted just you in my life. Why can't you understand it?!' Peter said into the fancy robes, burrowing desperately into that safe embrace.

Father said nothing, clapped him on the back two times and pushed away gently.

'Alright there?'

_…_

_Again, responding in his head._

_… _

_He was an idiot._

His da cupped his cheek. 'Son, it'll be better this time I promise you.' And he looked so certain, so determined to fulfil it. A hesitant hope budded from Peter's undying desire to believe him. He wouldn't lie. What happened with Kellaway's mother was just an accident, a moment of poor judgement. Peter smiled and couldn't tell if it was genuine or the mirror-practised lift of lips.

The groundskeeper was as huge as he remembered. The wizard asked him questions, friendly and curious. Peter was in no mood to talk and escaped to the Greenhouses at the first opportunity. Herbology passed in a fog. Defence - even quicker, with Kellaway absent, most definitely busy on his date with the loo. (Peter snickered.)

At dinner, Prongs was busy demonstratively ignoring Evans while relatively subtly throwing pining glances her way. Sirius retold a gossip he heard about bloody-nosed, starry-eyed Snivellus being escorted to the Headmaster. Peter snorted and recounted the events of his crazy morning. James cackled so loudly, Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and asked him to tone it down. Sirius gaped with a bewildered grin then clapped his back painfully and counted ten golden coins straight out of his pocket. Marlene tried to snatch one and accidentally started a food fight. Most of the Gryffindors got detentions from the infuriated McGonagall, who _just couldn't believe their nerve to start the mess again! _Byrne received one as well for her explosive stunt, which provided a nice accompaniment at the time - like an artillery imitation. Prongs and Padfoot left for their cleaning sessions, whinging and groaning.

Overall, it was the same old Monday evening in Hogwarts.

Except, they had a full moon that night and Sirius's cousin was going to show up. Peter thought the princess would get too scared to come. She was so delicate. Running with a werewolf was no stroll in the garden. It didn't suit any pureblood bint no matter what one said.

The witch showed up despite the late hour. Sirius exploded into activity all but dragging the stumbling chit along. Were he in Padfoot form, his tail would've flown off already. James grinned, messed his hair, winked back at Peter and hurried to conceal the three of them from the view. Wormtail couldn't help the return smile even though the witch took his place under the cloak. _Oh, well, the rat-dash wasn't the worst kind of travel._

They separated by the Whomping Willow. The witch transformed, uncaring about the violent tree branches slamming the ground close to them or if anyone could see her. It was dark but the stars and the layer of snow provided enough visibility for the Ravenclaws or anyone who had to use a school owl.

'Are you sure you'll find your way to the meadow?' Sirius said, petting the filly's muzzle. She snorted and bumped him on a cheek. Padfoot barked a short laugh. 'Yeah, yeah, you can manage by yourself, I remember.' He watched her disappear between the trees. 'I just can't let anything happen to you,' he whispered.

'Aww, Padfoot, becoming such a family man,' James said, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Peter joined on his other side. 'She'll be fine. If anything horse's hooves can pack a mean punch.' He rubbed his jaw that suddenly flared with a fantom pain.

James erupted with cackles. 'You sound like you have experience, Wormtail!'

'Nuh-uh! That story I'll take to the grave.'

'I thought we had a no secrets rule between us, good old pals,' Prongs said, trying to grab him by the sleeve and dragging groaning Padfoot along. Peter danced away with a chortle.

'Never heard of that! It's your stupid fault for believing such nonsense.'

'What is this I hear? I'd never keep anything from you, Pete. Padfoot, you tell him.'

Sirius grunted under James's arm. 'Nobody's fault your secrets consist of gross things about Evans and that you occasionally nick from Moony's choco-stash,' he said.

Prongs gasped, flushing, and let go of Padfoot. 'I would never!' Sirius crossed his arms, deadpan. Peter doubled over in a fit of giggles. 'I borrowed a candy or two! Borrowed! A Potter never nicks!'

'Whatever you say. Now shut up and let's go.'

The trap door met them with silence. Moony didn't wail or smash against the walls. The quiet made them uneasy. James stopped grumbling under his breath and helped Wormtail sneak in first as per usual. He looked around, chattered the safety word and darted to the second floor.

What he expected to see, he didn't know. It certainly wasn't a werewolf sitting on its hind legs with a huge spider on its nose. The arachnid noticed the company and jumped. Wormtail nearly shat himself from the fright. _The bugger was almost as big as him! And was giving chase!_ Moony joined as graceful as a bull in a Knockturn Alley shop. He got only more excited when Prongs burst in. Wormtail leapt at the stag's back, checking the floor for the bleeding spider. It was nowhere to be found. _Maybe, Prongs stepped on it._

They ushered Moony towards the backyard exit. Sirius waited, hidden behind the open door. Moony whined, tongue falling out, and bolted into the night. The snow distracted him from the looming forest and soon enough he was rolling in the snow. Prongs pranced around, messing the snowdrifts. Wormtail had to hold on tight with his tiny paws to keep from falling over.

The door clicked shut. Sirius jumped (Prongs grunted in worry, moving closer) and transformed mid-pounce. The two canines wrestled and nipped at each other playfully until both were covered in snow. Padfoot jumped around to evade Moony, landing low on the front feet, butt sticking in the air, tail wagging like a muggle propeller. Seeing a dog as big as an adolescent bear behave like a puppy was ridiculous. Peter chattered, unable to contain his laughter. Moony snapped the jaws at the sound, mock-pounced on Padfoot and raced off into the forest. They followed. Thus, the usual ritual 'bring Moony out for a walk' was complete.

They ran among the trees fast enough for the scenery to blur. Whenever Moony strayed too far from the course towards their meadow Padfoot whined and growled and lunged around, making the werewolf chase him. Prongs helped, dancing gracefully away from the sharp teeth and claws, beckoning him away from the path to the mountains in the far distance. Wormtail held tightly on to Prongs's antler but he wasn't afraid. He never was on Moony runs. A deep sense of belonging and camaraderie in their little group always dwarfed his fears.

Ahead, the great log lay broken on its side. They took longer than usual to reach the half-way point to the meadow with Moony determined to follow some trail deeper into the forest. Wormtail couldn't complain though. He was comfortable (as comfortable as a rat could be riding on the head of a prancing deer). He was with his friends.

Moony's snout jerked up and he froze, sniffing the air once. A deep rumble in his throat turned into a menacing snarl. The growling had little resemblance to the teasing noise of the chase games with Padfoot. It was all the warning they got before Moony shot forward faster than a spell.

They bolted after him, Padfoot whining slightly ahead. Prongs made a sniffing sound and pounded the ground with every powerful tramp. Moony ignored the calls, hurtling thought the first shrubs around their meadow. The ceiling of the tall trees unveiled the starry sky above. A full moon shone high and mighty, pasty amidst the shadows. The dark grey of Moony's fur lit with silvery streaks.

They broke into the meadow right on Moony's tail. Wormtail squeaked and hissed, his little heart nearly exploding in a sudden terror. The opposite border of their haven was an ocean of fierce faces, hooves striking soil and drawn bows among the stark snow and murky tree trunks. Familiar silver filly stood among them right next to a Centaur with a laurel wreath woven into his fair long locks. He looked important. Moony must've thought the same: he didn't slow one bit, aiming straight for the heart of the herd. The Marauders had to follow, Padfoot and Prongs and himself yowling out in a vain attempt to stop the werewolf.

There was a snap and a chilling whistle. A strange cloud blocked the moonlight, moving rapidly towards them. _Arrows! A cloud of arrows! Sweet lips of Holy Circe! They were going to die!_

The filly jerked and reared and _the silly horse transformed into a silly witch while a werewolf meant to rip someone to pieces. At least he would escape the gory detail by dying first. _Padfoot howled and all but pounced on top of Moony. The werewolf kept going. The witch raised her arms as if in surrender (_yeah, right, try to fend off a raving predator with that_) just as the arrows reached Moony and Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail was on Prongs's head and-

He squeezed his little eyes.

_-they were dead._

'No!' Sirius's cousin screamed.

_Or not._

A noise reminiscent of heavy rain hitting a window glass made Peter peek.

Moony was rolling with Padfoot, both snapping and snarling and clawing at each other. The snow around them turned crimson.

'Hadar must keep to her faithful form,' a dark-haired Centaur next to the must-be-chief said. 'Changeling mustn't confine her spirit to a disgraceful guise.'

Sirius's cousin stuck the chin higher at his disdainful tone. Her eyes blazed in a chilling glare, albeit, directed at the shield. More arrows hit the clear barrier. 'You will stop the attack _at once_!' she said slowly, loudly. Every word thundered as if infused with magic. Centaurs halted. In the sudden silence, Moony and Padfoot kept wrestling. Steam rose from their bloodied furs, the snow melted in a nearly perfect ring around. Prongs circled them, brandishing the antlers like a wand. Wormtail hissed at the hoofed arseholes.

The pompous Centaur puffed out his broad hairy chest. 'Hadar is in dan-'

'Hadar is _fine_!'

_That shut him up quick. _The bugger's pouting face was hilarious. Wormtail laughed which translated to Rat as a series of chattering squeaks.

The chief Centaur stepped closer to the witch, scrutinising her with a ravenous gaze. _What a creep._ 'We dare not leave you with the werewolf unprotected,' he said. In contrast to his shrewd expression, his voice was melodious and calming, even serene. The Centaur lifted a hand. A sea of bowstrings was drawn with an unmistakable stretching noise. Peter would have nightmares of the sound. Prongs struck the ground with the front legs and stepped between the fighting Moony and Padfoot and the Centaurs. 'He runs unchecked, thirsting for flesh. We dare not risk your life. The beast must die.'

Sirius's cousin exhaled a long breath, not moving an inch. The air around them bloated with tension and a heavy smell of ozone. Wormtail glanced up. _Was rain even possible in such cold? _The dark dome of the sky was undisturbed, the moon hung high and pale.

'He is no beast but a good man cursed and you will _not_ touch him,' the witch said and her voice carried again. 'Besides, you no longer have any reason to be on this clearing. It belongs to him and his friends.'

The chief Centaur smirked. The pompous dark-haired berk next to him sneered. 'You dare-' he tried to say.

The witch's hair (Wormtail did a double-take) began to _float. What the hell? _The prickly Centaur's bow and arrows rose in the air, too, rather forcefully at that. Distressed calls grew in number as the whole herd lost their weapons to what looked like a glitch in the gravity field. Not one of them managed to tug them down.

'Sirius,' the witch said distractedly, breathing deeply, not lowering her hands. _Neither one held a wand. What? _Padfoot barked, twisting away from Moony's sharp teeth. 'Could you draw him away, please? This conflict is senseless.' She frowned at the chief Centaur. The man-horse looked unconcerned and happy to wait without backing down.

Padfoot snapped his jaws at Moony's hind legs and leapt towards the path they came from. Moony followed, thankfully. Prongs lowered his head to the ground. Wormtail scrambled off, rising on twos to peer into James's green eyes - the only feature left unchanged in every animagus. Prongs snorted (soft breath warmed his small body), and galloped towards Moony, prodding the werewolf when he slowed the chase after Padfoot.

_It seemed Peter had to play a guard. _He gulped, the movement weird in the rat form, and glanced around at the brutal faces. _How was he supposed to manage that?_

'Very diplomatic of you,' the Centaur-chief said with a pleasant smile.

'V'ry 'nhelpf'l 'f you!' The witch sighed to slow the jumbled words. 'There is nothing left to say.' The Centaurs' bows and arrows plonked with the fall of her hands. The herd grumbled in outrage, collecting the weapons. The dark-haired git complained about 'wizarding incivility.'

'Indeed. Till we meet again, Hadar.'

Wormtail exhaled in shaky relief. The tension bled out from his libs with every Centaur darting away. Sirius's cousin watched them go for a long moment and sighed. Her hands lifted slowly, and she stared at them for a heartbeat before her head dropped neatly into her dainty palms. The picture she made was pure misery - a lone figure in flimsy robes amidst the snow and shadows. Peter transformed. A shiver whacked him at the first gust of chilly wind.

_How did the girl not freeze to death yet?_

'Hey, um-' he said. She started (Peter could swear her hair rose and coiled). Her frail shoulders jerked and she turned, letting her arms drop. In the tense silence, every creak and moan of the forest amplified into a sinister melody.

'So, uhh-' he said again when she failed to react. _What a character, eh._ 'Your friends, huh?'

The witch cringed and looked at the place where Moony and Padfoot fought. Her walk was unhurried, every movement free of shudders. _Wasn't she cold? A magic blanket?_ He snorted at his own stupid thought. Sirius's cousin ignored him, studying the bloodied snow with an expression so heartbroken he had to speak some nonsense.

'Ever heard of a wolf who got lost in the forest?' Her mien screwed up in an incredulity. _Hadn't she heard of a joke? _Peter cleared his throat to throw off the flaming embarrassment. 'Friends called him a where-wolf.'

She blinked and let out a faint breathy giggle. Peter grinned at the sound and strode forward, sticking his hand out. 'I'm Peter Pettigrew. We've met before.'

'Mirach Black,' the witch said giving her palm, delicate and freezing. Peter grasped it and rubbed the cold skin.

'Circe's delicates! You're like a popsicle!'

'I'm fine,' she said, trying to tag her hand free.

'No, no. Padfoot will murder me.' Peter took off his heavy coat and draped it over her shoulders. She didn't drown in the cloth, but it was close. The girl was way too small for her age. Mirach's attention strayed. Peter followed her gaze to the bloodied clearing.

'Not t-to worry, love! They'll be o-o-okay. We're t-t-tough lads,' he said, teeth cluttering. It was bloody _cold. _Some weird dark spot moved quickly towards them. Peter squinted and let out a squeak. He had no time to be mortified. _The bleeding spider followed him!_

'Shite!' he screamed, hiding behind the witch. 'Curse the bugger! It's gonna eat me!' _Fuck pride and such rubbish! Spiders were the creatures of evil-_

Peter gaped when the witch bent down and stretched the arm. The spider jumped on her open _palm!_ _Perfumed Circe's nipples!_

'Eeek! Woman, what are you doing?! Drop it! _Drop it!_'

Tinkling laughter interrupted his frantic shouts. The sound was musical and so very rare according to Padfoot. She laughed before in the Shrieking Shack when it all began. But the hysterical giggles didn't compare. _Sirius should've been here to hear it. To see her with the head thrown back, silver curls lit in the moonlight and with not a care in a world._

'She is harmless, Ron,' the witch said.

_She? _

_Who's Ron?_

_… _

Who cared when the hairy bugger on her hand poised two front legs his way? _Nuh-uh! _Peter stumbled back in the snow, legs numb from the cold.

'H-how do you know sh-she is a… well, sh-sh-she?' he said, watching the nightmarish creature unblinkingly, shaking and jumping from foot to foot to generate some warmth. _It was quite a feat, if anyone asked him._ Mirach frowned and brought the palm to her shoulder. The spider scrambled under the robes. _His coat! He would have to burn it!_

The witch didn't lower the hand. Her fingers spread wide, gaze sharpened on him. Peter made another step away, getting nervous at the strange behaviour. 'I read.'

'Har-har.' A toasty bubble that enveloped him was sudden and so very blissful. _Like walking into grandma's house after building a snowman in the garden to grab a plate of fresh pea soup and a loaf of hot bread. _'Ahhh. Thanks. That's so much better.'

Mirach hummed, watching him with a smile. _She was kinda nice._

'So, wandless, huh? How'd you do that?'

'Just practice,' she said, eyes going distant. 'A lot of free time.' For a second it seemed the witch would talk more but she peered at the moon instead.

'Pretty neat, if you ask me. Wish I could do some.'

The conversation stalled. _What kind of reply was that? Why, oh why could he not speak out of his arse for once._

'Shall we go look for your friends?' Peter jerked at her soft voice.

'No point. There's no way we'll find them now,' he said, shaking the head. 'We'll only get lost in the forest.'

Mirach hummed. 'Do you want to go for a ride?'

'Huh?'

'Horseback,' the witch said with a twitch of her lips.

'Not with that assassin-spider.'

She laughed again, flashing a neat row of pearly teeth. The hellish creature came out of its hiding spot behind the collar and raced down her arm. It danced agitatedly, sticking two legs in his direction rather forcefully (Mirach nodded in sympathy), jumped to the ground (Peter jumped with it and prepared to run) and all but stalked off sulking. _Could a spider even sulk?_

Mirach snorted and took off his coat.

'She's sentient.'

'Huh?' _Good going, man._

The witch passed him the cloak. He held it like a poisonous ivy, arms outstretched, mouth skewed in a sour wince.

Mirach chuckled. 'Don't be silly. As soon as I change the warming charm will fade.'

She transformed and indeed, Peter had to hurry and put the coat on to escape the frostbite, spider or no spider.

The filly scampered around him, snorting every other step. When they first met Peter had no chance to observe her. She was a young Shire, a breed he'd ridden before. Silver chased her black colouring to the underbelly and legs. A grey spot on her head was barely noticeable, grey feathering covered the hooves, her mane curled unusually. She was beautiful.

'You're lovely,' he said, mounting. 'We gotta think of a nickname for you.'

The filly reared. Peter struggled to hold on, screaming his lungs out. She neighed and started at a gallop into the forest. He hugged her neck for dear life. _The witch was insane!_

'Slow down, will ya!?' She neighed again. 'What do you mean _no_!?'

They passed shadowed trees and snowy bushes and fallen rotting logs, their pace so quick the wind whipped at his face, yet, he could do nothing but guffaw. _How exhilarating! Last time he had such a ride his gran was still alive!_

They stopped on a dead-end trail from the Greenhouses and Peter dismounted. He slapped his thighs, bending to take a breather.

'Blimey! What a trip!' The filly reared and transformed. He dashed to catch the girl by the flailing limbs. 'Woah! Alright there?'

Mirach sent him a sheepish smile and ambled up the path. Peter looked around, breathing in greedily. The charged air in this place didn't bite his airways, the noise was sparse, the snow - somehow, even shinier. He followed the witch into the woods. _Could be the beginning of a tale. She brought the prince to a charmed tower to have her wicked way with him._ Peter snickered at the foolish fantasy. He glanced up and his heart plummeted. Mirach was gone.

_What!? Padfoot would murder his arse!_

'Umm, Mirach!' Her name sat weirdly on his tongue. 'Where'd she go? Mirach!'

Maybe, it wasn't the best idea to shout in the night forest but all sounds were muffled as if he screamed underwater. The air in front of him rippled like a pond surface and the witch appeared, beckoning him to step forward. He did, passing through some sort of invisible barrier, and paused to gape.

A massive gazebo sat under a magical dome that kept away the winter. Vines heavy with black roses knitted the trellis walls; a marble fountain in a from of chalice burbled gently amidst lush grass swaying in a phantom breeze leading to the steps. The gazebo was marble with painstakingly carved plants and blooms into every possible surface. Sense of safety and secret permeated the area. A faint rotting sweetness of it added to the mystery. Peter was struck dumb from the beauty of it all.

'Arachne brought me here once,' Mirach said, climbing the stairs and taking a sit on the long circular bench.

Peter followed in daze, taking off his winter cloak and the sweater underneath. Inside, the gazebo could easily fit two dozen people standing. 'Who?'

'Your favourite spider.'

'You named your spider Arachne?'_ What, like in the myth?_

Mirach shook the head. The movement was bizarrely slow but it suited her. 'She is not mine.'

'Right. She was awfully cosy with you.'

The witch shrugged. 'The barrier we crossed is partly a powerful notice-me-not enchantment. I have read of those. Susceptible minds would forget the area as soon as they lose sight of it. Some would even feel repelled coming near.'

'Huh, I think I forget it every time I blink.'

Mirach didn't laugh and Peter turned away from the intricate carvings on the ceiling, the trellis walls and the floor. She watched him with a small frown.

'You give yourself too little credit,' she said. Peter had to look at his feet to escape her intense stare. Mirach had eyes of a mindreader. He didn't want the witch to see the ridiculous happiness random praise induced in him.

'I wish I could forget this place,' she said. Peter peeked through his fallen bangs. Mirach gazed at the roses with a blank face. 'I don't like it very much. I feel a vile taint in the magic.'

He didn't sense anything. 'Why'd you bring me here, then?'

'You were cold.'

Peter snorted and sat next to her. He didn't have much to add to that. 'Thanks.'

She hummed distractedly, mind clearly floating elsewhere. Peter yawned. The force of it nearly dislocated his jaw. _He needed a distraction or he'd fall right asleep._

'Say, ever heard a story of a knight Roland?'

'Did he get lost in the woods?'

A violent snort was wrenched from his throat before he even realised, scraping painfully inside his nose. Peter rubbed it hastily. _At least, no snot came out. He would've died in mortification._

'_No_,' he said ignoring Mirach's cheeky grin. 'He was in service of a wise and old King who just so happened to be his father.'

'So he was a prince.'

'Don't interrupt. But yeah, he was a prince from the King's first marriage. A first-born son who carried a burden of protecting the family name. He took the mantle of a King's guard at a young age.'

'How young?'

'Just. Young. Like eight.'

'Could he even lift a sword?'

'Yes, he could. He was strong. And stop interrupting. Ahem. The King took two wives after Roland's mother. The first was an evil woman who hated the knight and incited many an argument between the King and the prince.'

'Wha' happ'ned to R'land's m'ther?'

'She was sick.'

'Sick.'

'Uh-huh. Don't interrupt. The stepmother had a son from her own marriage and he despised Roland secretly even as he befriended him. The two of them sought the means to control the prince, to turn him against his father and claim the throne amidst the anarchy such conflict would've brought. The King saw through the deceit and divorced the evil Queen before she gave birth to their first joint child.'

'H'w'd he f'nd 't?'

'Find out?'

'Hmm.'

'The Queen made a grave mistake - she forgot about other figures on the board. You see, Roland had three friends - fellow knights, brave and most loyal and ever-present in his life. One of them was his childhood friend but eventually, they drifted apart as the knight got closer to another boy from the group. Roland didn't begrudge him companionship. He was happy to belong. He carried hope in his heart to finally attain the family he longed for as well. He reckoned, maybe, the third wife would be docile and sweet in her young age and carry nothing but love in her heart for both the King and Roland-'

Feathery softness touched his cheek followed by a light weight. Peter jerked slightly, having forgotten about his companion. Mirach slept, head pillowed on his shoulder, downy curls sticking in his eye and nose. Peter let her, watching the carved ceiling of the gazebo with not a thought on his mind. _Who cared about struggles long past?_

He started awake as someone violently convulsed next to him with a grunt. The sky was still dark, the white marble produced the same amount of low light. Mirach struggled to get up, limps and trunk twitching every other heartbeat. She finally stood and swayed after a small uncoordinated step. Peter bolted from his seat, grasping her forearms. Constant tremors run through them like electric currents.

'How can I help?' he said.

Mirach shook her head, the movement spasmodic, and tried to tag her hands free.

'No, no, listen, my gran had difficulty walking. I can help.' She met his eyes and hers were filled with tears._ Fuck! What'd he do with that? _'Oh no, love! Don't cry! What shall I do!?'

'I will… transform and… it will… get better,' she said. 'But… once we… reach the castle… The Matron… Could you-?'

'Take you to Madam Pomfrey? Sure thing!'

She changed. Her form was as lovely as before, movements - fluid grace. They left the gazebo after he hastily put his discarded sweater and cloak. The filly neighed. Peter mounted and off they flew, further and further away from the dead-end trail. _Why were they there in the first place?_

The Greenhouses rushed by. The stillness of the snow was undisturbed except for the path they made. The castle entrance was in sight before Peter could begin to worry about anyone noticing them in the dead of the night. Their trek to the Hospital Wing was slow and he struggled against the urge to break the silence. Mirach had no qualms about keeping quiet.

The Matron awaited them, hands on her waist. Peter swallowed as all spit suddenly dried in his mouth.

'Miss Black, I cannot believe my eyes. Late, late,' Pomfrey whispered, ushering them inside. 'Oh, my dear, come, come.' She didn't spare him a glance, fluttering around Mirach like a mother hen, bringing potions to her lips. They smelled of cherries and chamomile and some ripe citrus and honey. 'Off you go now, boy, and I'll pretend I didn't see you.'

Peter exhaled, the tension leaking out of his head. A soft dainty palm grasped his hand lightly. He looked up. Blue eyes glowed in the dim light of the lantern like deep ocean waters in the sun. 'Thank you, Peter,' she said with a gentle beam. The back of his neck itched, so he scratched it, suppressing a grin. He understood finally what Prongs meant about her smiles.

'Don't mention it.'

He returned to the Gryffindor tower, halting every other corridor turn and stair-flight to yawn. The clock in the Hospital Wing read nearly six in the morning and even Filch had to sleep sometimes. And Peter was so damn tired he didn't care about anything but hot shower and bed.

As he expected neither James nor Sirius returned yet. They would bring Moony to Pomfrey first. Maybe, he missed them by minutes. _No matter._

The water warmed his bones, the soft mattress (once he dumped Prongs's rags on the floor) took him into its sweet embrace. He blinked and it was time to get up. The wand-alarm vibrated like a bloody May bug under his pillow. Peter dressed up, shoving the stupid hat into the bag (_how he hated that thing!_) and stumbled to the Great Hall. He had just a few minutes to grab a toast and some coffee before Transfiguration. Hopefully, James and Sirius were waiting for him. _He so wanted to know how the Moony-run went after they separated._

Peter tripped at the door to the Great Hall for a bleeding hundredth time. The sparse chatter at the table died out as he neared. Peter stopped and broke eye contact with the floor. Everyone was staring at him. James stood up, ashen and concerned. Sirius wasn't in the Hall. McKinnon stalked towards him with an unreadable expression.

_What'd he do this time?_

As soon as the thought formed, he had arms full of Marlene. 'Oh, Peter,' she said. 'Peter.' He floundered, hugging back on automat, peeking at the table for some food. _He was bloody hungry._

The Prophet's front page caught his attention. Numbness spread to every part of his body and his hands fell. Peter snatched the paper, feeling how the blood drained from his head to pump the heart that was suddenly trying to break out of his ribcage. Someone screamed his name but he could not focus on anything but the picture on the front page. His father smiled up at him. The title read 'Joseph William Pettigrew Murdered in Cold Blood Last Night'.

An image of their cottage sprang in his imagination, white and lovely, with the reading tower and beautiful back-garden. It crumbled like a house of cards.


End file.
